Good love is hard to find
by inkydoo
Summary: A darker retelling of the story from the huntsman's point of view. The huntsman is forced to apprehend a fugitive, but he has no idea what kind of effect this will have on his life and the lives of all those in the kingdom. Who is this girl and why is she so important to The Black Queen?
1. You got lucky, babe

Disclaimer: JUST **TRY **SUING ME FOR WRITING STORIES USING PUBLIC DOMAIN CHARACTERS! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Author's Notes: Saw the movie and I liked the _idea_ of the movie, but there was much potential that was squandered. This will be a darker telling of the story, and that darkness will be provided by the characters themselves. Will more or less follow major plot points of the movie, with a possible sequel...possibly.

* * *

_Good love is hard to find_

_Good love is hard to find_

_You got lucky, babe_

_You got lucky, babe_

_When I found you_

- _You got Lucky_, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

* * *

The sun rose and the day looked promising. With money burning holes in his pockets, he made his way to the bar of the tavern he had been staying at while in the village. With any luck, he'd be blindingly, obnoxiously drunk before the noon bells rang.

He must have had some measure of success because when he came to, he didn't remember hearing any church bells, and it was almost dark when he found himself in a large trough surrounded by soldiers. He wasn't an angry drunk, but he wasn't the kindest, either, and finding himself in a vat of water was almost as unwelcome as the realization that he was in the middle of the Black Queen's courtyard inside the castle walls. Still, if he had been a prisoner, he doubted they would have taken the time to sober him up before throwing him in irons and leaving him to rot in one of the castle's few empty cells.

He was "granted" an audience with the queen. It had been a strange affair from beginning to end. The queen wanted him to find a fugitive who was probably already dead at this point. She said she needed this escaped prisoner alive. When asked about remuneration, however, things took a decidedly strange turn. She suggested that she could somehow bring his wife back...from the dead. The thought of this both overjoyed and disgusted him for reasons he chose not to dwell on, but the small light of hope that this was actually a possibility fizzled when they threatened him with instant death should he refuse the proposition. His options were to either have all his dreams come true by being reunited with his wife in this life...or suffer a sudden, stab-filled death at the hands of the queen's guard. Sure, he was still stinking drunk, but he wasn't an idiot. And though he wouldn't deny that he was foolhardy at times, he wasn't particularly a gambling man.

He offered to do it for gold, instead. At least he could count on that kind of repayment.

He insisted that they load up the horses with three times the supplies they thought they'd need...and plenty of wine on top of that. This was The Dark Forest they were talking about, after all, and the place was known for laying excellent plans to waste. There was a reason why he commanded an astonishing price for his trade: he could bring back the biggest, most ferocious game from the forest because anyone else who tried ended up killed...or worse. The black spores of the forest floor were not forgiving, and people who made a habit of inhaling them without thought generally did not fare extremely well, whether inside the forest or out.

He had a secret advantage over all of them, though. The forest preyed on the weaknesses of those who entered, and only one who knew his true heart was black as the forest floor ever stood a chance of dealing with the troubling visions one saw while inside that terrible place.

They left early that morning and reached the swamps that surrounded the forest before noon. The ground began to give underneath the weight of the horse and he knew it was neither in his best interest nor the beast's to continue on horseback. He dismounted and took a rucksack full of supplies with him. He tried to tell the men who were with him to stay back and let him bring the prisoner to them. The queen's right-hand-man had even ventured with him to this place, though it might have been more about making sure he did not disappear than seeing the mission through. They waited for a few moments, but he could hear the horses moving through the forest after only a short period of time.

He cast his gaze around the scene in front of him and was surprised to find several branches broken in a way that suggested someone had recently pushed through the limbs. The fugitive obviously hadn't made it far into the forest, and it was probably lucky for her as well. The chances for survival diminished greatly the further in one traveled. The tracks accompanying this evidence were fresh as well. And the footprints he found were definitely human in nature, but they were alarmingly small...almost too small to be from a full-fledged adult. If he hadn't had misgivings about this before, he was certainly starting to develop them now.

He moved fast now, far more quickly than the men on horseback. He had a trail to follow and he was growing more and more curious as to who he would find at the end of it. Finally, after a little ways, he lost the trail at the base of a huge tree. He dropped the rucksack and circled the trunk, looking up at the branches to see if the fugitive had climbed up and taken refuge in higher limbs, but as he strained his eyes to see, his ears caught a sound. It was the sound of frightened, shallow breathing: the sound of cornered prey.

The fugitive was under the tree.

He dove down and found that there was a large chamber underneath the trunk where the roots had been washed out. He quickly grabbed the ankle of the small girl he found there. She screamed, alerting the men on horseback of their position. He would have rather avoided that, but it wasn't an option now. He pulled her roughly out from under the tree and forced her against the trunk to get a better look at her.

She was scared and covered with grime and her long dark hair was clumped with dirt and stuck to her cheeks, but her green eyes blazed with terror as she looked at him. Without thinking, he moved to brush her hair away from her face. Her stature matched his assumptions from the size of the footprints, but he couldn't tell if she was a girl or a very small young woman. There was something in her wild eyes that told him even if she was a child, she had already seen too much. She jumped and evaded his hand like a skittish stray kitten, never once dropping her gaze. She backed up further against the tree and found herself more or less trapped between two ridges in the great trunk. With nowhere to go, she closed her eyes and he grazed her temple as his fingers moved her hair away from her face.

She had the mean, hard look of someone who had survived for years hovering near starvation, and he realized that her size could have been a result of a lack of proper diet. So she wasn't as young as she looked, but she was still very young: possibly 14, with 17 being the oldest he would venture.

Who was this girl?

She held her arms protectively across her chest and as he continued to brush her hair back, he could see that her breath was calming a bit. She opened her down-turned eyes, however, and saw the axe at the huntsman's side. As soon as she saw the weapon, the terror returned to her eyes and her breath became ragged again. When she heard the horses growing near, her countenance took on a truly bewildering look of panic and despair.

She moved so quickly he only managed to grasp her wrist as she slipped past him. Just like a frightened kitten, she was able to move alarmingly fast when least expected. He held her firm and pinned her close with her back to his front, preventing another escape. Her body was shaking violently from fear and he suddenly wondered why he was even party to this. Everything about this seemed wrong on so many different levels, and by the time the blond man on horseback approached, he wanted some answers.

As soon as the girl saw the blond, though, she stopped struggling. If he thought she had been scared before, that was nothing compared to what she was feeling now. He felt her grasp at his hands, not trying to force them away, but instead trying to fasten them tighter around her body. He felt her back up into his embrace, just as she had with the tree. He was puzzled and looked down at her for some kind of answer, but she didn't spare him a glance. Her eyes were locked on the blond aristocrat's face, and when the huntsman looked up, he knew why she was so afraid.

The queen's right-hand-man had an expression that was a mix of fury, triumph, and most troubling, desire. It was a dark, foreboding look and promised pain to the recipient of the glare. The huntsman wasn't entirely sure when he had switched from captor to savior in this girl's eyes, but he felt like being neither at the moment. He was just hoping to get himself and the girl out of this situation more or less unscathed.

"Stay close," he whispered quietly into her ear and he felt her jump. He prised his hands away from her body. She looked wildly at him, and he tried to give her a calming look as he took hold of her wrist and pushed her behind him.

"What is the meaning of this, huntsman?" the blond sneered. "If you think I will have any qualms over killing you to get to the fugitive, you are terribly mistaken." The blond man kept his eyes trained on the girl.

"What do you want with her?" the huntsman asked, standing his ground. The girl had her free hand clutched to his vest and he doubted she would run away even if he let go of her at this point. He surveyed the area nearby, considering how he could use the environment to his advantage.

"The Queen has a need for the fugitive to be returned to her custody. It is of no concern to you."

"That's not what I asked," the huntsman retorted. "What do _you_ want with her?"

The blond finally shifted his gaze to the huntsman and his expression was one that made the seasoned soldier's skin crawl. "That is most definitely of no concern to you. Hand her over or you shall regr-"

The huntsman took advantage of the low hanging branches and thick briars that kept the horses pinned in place as he attacked without warning. He pushed the girl back toward the tree. The blond and the other guard attempted to unsheathe their swords, but the fabric of their uniforms was caught by the branches and they were momentarily befuddled. The huntsman took a small knife and sliced through the bottom strap of the saddle on each horse, and a small bit of leverage was all it took to send the two men crumpled into a patch of the black spores.

The huntsman quickly covered his face with his shirt, returned the knife to the leather strap on his belt, and rushed over to grab the rucksack and the girl. The horses kicked and freed themselves from their burdens and galloped back toward the edge of the forest. The guards were left crawling through the black spore patch and puffs of black poison erupted with every move.

If he and the girl were lucky, the queen wouldn't even bother sending a search party for the two guards, but considering the station of the blond man and the fact that they wanted this girl so bad that they'd send him into the woods to find her, they probably weren't going to get that lucky. That meant they were probably about a day ahead of search party.

They walked for what felt like an hour before the sun started setting in earnest. The huntsman looked around for a place to set up camp. He watched the girl next to him with some level of concern as she seemed to fade after the ordeal. It suddenly occurred to him that she probably hadn't eaten anything in the last day or two and with the adrenaline wearing off from their initial encounter, he didn't know how long she would last. He found a large rock with a natural overhang that they could take cover under and led her to it. She sank to the ground and he wondered if she was even still conscious at all. He quickly pulled some hard cheese and half a loaf of bread out of the rucksack. He sliced off a thick slab of cheese and broke off a healthy portion of bread before turning to her and holding it out to her.

Her reaction surprised him. She looked at the food, then at him, and then at the food again. Her eyes were hopeful in a way that seemed to be wholly disproportionate to the meager meal he was offering her, still she hesitated like he didn't actually mean to give her the food at all. This made him feel very uneasy.

"Do you want it?" he snapped at her, pulling her back into the present.

She nodded fervently.

"Then take it already," he snapped again, foisting the food upon her.

Despite her obvious hunger, she ate the small meal slowly, savoring every last morsel he had given her. He, on the other hand, ate quickly. He was hungry, but more concerned with getting into one of the skins of wine. He pulled the stopper out with his teeth and took a long drink. He could immediately feel his nerves calming.

Now that they had eaten, the girl arranged her filthy gown around her and looked out into the darkness. There was something so peculiar about this girl. She was the last creature he ever imagined encountering in this forest.

"So what am I going to do with you, eh?" the huntsman asked suddenly, causing the girl to jump.

"I...I don't understand," she said.

The huntsman took another long drink from the skin. "Well, I don't think they'll be paying my fee now that I've gone and stolen you for myself." He watched as she became more and more apprehensive. She looked out into the darkness, but she did not run away.

"But...but...you _saved _me," she almost cried in disbelief. Despair and exhaustion were distorting her pretty features. "What can I pay you? I have nothing valuable to offer."

He laughed. "How could a girl as pretty as you think she did not have something valuable to trade in a situation like this?"

He chuckled to himself, but when he saw her face, he instantly regretted having said anything. "Oh, it was only a joke. You must have a father who would pay a fine ransom for you."

The girl didn't calm, though. She looked down at her hands and he thought he could see her trembling again. "I have no one...no one in this whole world."

This caught the huntsman off guard. The Black Queen was known for taking the youngest and prettiest maids in the countryside to her castle, but these girls were almost always taken from their families. "Not an uncle? Or a brother? Or a distant cousin?"

She shook her head. "No. No one."

"Hmm. Then there must be someone in the next town I can sell you to for a profit."

Without even knowing how she could move that fast, she was on her knees and she had his knife. She pointed it at him threateningly, but he couldn't take her seriously. "What are you planning to do with that, girl?" he asked in a patronizing voice.

"I can't go back." The look in her eyes scared him. "I have been held captive for so long. I'm not even sure how old I am anymore. I can't go back, and I can't be sold into some other kind of captivity." Suddenly, she pointed the knife at herself, and the look in her eyes seemed far more dangerous than it had before. She placed the knife along her own neck. "If I go back, they'll kill me. I want to live, but I refuse to be imprisoned any longer." He looked on in horror as blood began to slowly run down the length of the knife. "I have no one I can trust. I thought today I had finally been saved, but it seems that that wasn't the case after all." She sighed. "I am so tired. I am so very tired, and I long for a place where I could rest without fear of danger. But it seems obvious now that I'll only be able to rest in peace when I am dead."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, meaning to finish herself off, but he pulled her hand away before she could do it. "Christ, girl!" he shouted, trying to remain calm, but failing. He looked at her, then at the bloody knife, then at her again. "Christ!" he shouted once more. The fact that the girl's blood was still on his knife made him unsettled and he looked through his rucksack until he found a rag that he could clean it with. "Christ," he finally said, more calmly this time. He finally looked over at her and saw that her neck wound was still bleeding freely down into her gown and she was weeping. She looked absolutely exhausted.

He folded the rag and held it against her neck to stop the bleeding. He couldn't think of a damn thing to say to her. She sat there completely still for a few moments, then slowly she leaned her head to rest on his shoulder. "Please," she begged quietly. "Please, if just for tonight, promise you won't let anything happen to me. I can't pay you right now. I don't know if I ever will be able to." She tried to stifle a sob, but failed. "I...I really have nothing. I'm sorry." She continued to cry.

He sighed, leaned over, and grabbed the wine skin with his free hand. "Shhh," he ordered as he pushed her away from him. He uncorked the skin again and held it out to her. "Drink this. You'll calm down." She didn't move to take the wine from him. He sighed again. "I won't let anything happen to you tonight, alright? Now just drink some of this and you'll feel better, okay? It always works for me, anyway." She searched his eyes and finally took the skin. He pulled the rag away to see if the bleeding had stopped. It had slowed, but had not entirely stopped, so after she took a huge gulp, he put the rag back to the wound and continued to apply pressure.

Without a warning of any kind, she pulled his free arm away from his body and leaned into him, settling her head against his chest. Before he even figured out where to rest his hand or what to make of the situation, she was already fast asleep.


	2. Do you still think about me?

Author's Notes: Thanks so much to LenaLove, X, Fire Element13, emmmz, crystalstars88, NUNICHAN, Hafthand, Horserider, bluegixie320, and Jenna for the reviews! Thanks also to PhoenixSIngs, BeeIncarnate, al5654, Perminatly Lost In Thought, angelgirl116, .xx, Lexxy n' the 100, LuffyMarra, tatertots4dinner, gategirl7, Untold Story, ElldenStorm, and LiesbetB for the alerts and favorites! I'm glad people are enjoying the story so far!

* * *

_Way up in my tree I'm sitting by my fire_

_Wond'rin' where in this world might you be_

_And knowin' all the time you're still roamin' in the countryside_

_Do you still think about me?_

- _Gypsy Eyes_, Jimi Hendrix

* * *

The girl's wound had stopped bleeding hours ago, but he still felt compelled to keep pressure on the spot just to make sure the wound had not reopened. It wasn't that deep, but he knew from cleaning game that a well-placed slice in a blood vessel in that area could drain a living animal of all its blood in just a few moments. The heart was efficient in pumping a living creature's life force inside the body...or out of it.

As he held her close in the darkness, he realized he didn't know anything about her except that she had no living family, the queen wanted her alive, and the head of the royal guard meant to have her before returning her to custody at the castle. He himself had endeavored to make it clear that he was not necessarily an honorable man with his less than playful banter earlier, but her reaction was so strong, so defiant, so final that it left him rattled. He knew from this experience that calling her bluff might be a very dangerous thing. Plus, even in sleep, she clung to him like a tree root in a raging river. She had a fist full of his shirt in both hands. Even though he had basically told her he meant to sell her out for a quick profit or force himself on her to extract some sort of payment, she still held onto him as though he stood between her life and her death. His back was in pain from the uncomfortable position, but he figured that if she could sleep soundly in the pitch black forest, maybe it would be a good bit of penance for what a horse's ass he had been to her before.

It had been so long since he had held someone in his arms like this, since someone had depended on him for anything besides causing trouble and getting drunk. The fact that the girl he was holding onto was little more than a child didn't dampen the memories that came to his mind of his wife when times were good. In the dark, it was easy to remember and easy to forget.

The queen had been bluffing, but just the thought of someone being able to return Sara to him struck a chord deep within him. There was a time where he thought he'd do anything to see her again, but the idea of sacrificing an innocent child for the opportunity to see her once more was something he knew she would not have abided. Plus, if she saw him in his current state, would she even love him anymore?

He sighed and tried not to think about how far he had fallen since her death. Given the option, he would have still been drinking, but he'd drained the wine skin nearest him some time ago and he couldn't reach the rucksack for another without rousing his charge in the process. He breathed in a deep, calming breath and tried to shift into a slightly more comfortable position without waking the girl. As he resettled, she sighed in her sleep, but did not wake up. He could feel her heart beating defiantly in her chest. She did have a strong will to live, but he knew that any attempt to keep her caged ever again would result in suicide, probably without the courtesy of the preamble he had received explaining her actions.

Beneath the grime coating her face, he had seen that her skin was very pale. She hadn't been in the sun in a long time. Coupled with the fact that she looked like she hadn't gotten a good meal in years, he wondered how long the queen had been keeping her locked up. Did she really not know how old she was? Had she been raised in captivity?

He suddenly thought back to Sara and the last of his birthdays she'd celebrated with him. He had been on a hunting expedition and she had waited up all night to greet him when he arrived early on the morning of his birthday. It had been a good day.

It startled him to realize that had been almost two years ago.

The figure creeped silently into his field of vision. It wasn't real, he was sure of that much. The visions of the forest were the only things one could make out in the dark, and if he stayed calm and didn't move, he knew he wouldn't end up hurting himself.

He closed his eyes to block out the onslaught of visions, but he couldn't sleep. He hadn't had anyone to protect in such a long time and it made him feel strange to have a purpose again. The small girl lying against him was wreaking havoc on his emotions. For some reason, he felt the irrational urge to protect her, to shelter her, to _follow_ her. Then again, his cynical side told him to be weary and that she might be a criminal and this sort of thing was old hat for her.

He didn't really believe it, but he remained cautious just the same.

Eventually the sun began to rise and he tried to rouse the girl from her sleep.

"Oy, girl," he said more softly than the words conveyed. "Time to get up."

She turned over and burrowed her face deeper into his arm, trying to block out the light of the sun.

He grinned despite himself and shook her firmly. "Girl. Get up."

She began to move slowly and pushed herself up into a sitting position before her eyes went wide in fear. He thought he was going to have to do something drastic to keep her from hurting herself again, but just as soon as the look in her eyes surfaced, it melted away. She rubbed her face for a moment and then stretched like a kitten, letting out a big yawn. She moved out from under the rocky overhang and looked around. This slightly alarmed him.

"Hey, girl! What are you meaning to do?" demanded the huntsman.

She blushed. "I have...to relieve myself. I'll be right back."

He sighed, a little more worried than he'd have liked to admit. "Just watch out for those spores. They're not good for you."

She ran off and he went about the task of pulling out food for a quick breakfast meal before they were off again. Moments later, she reappeared and plopped herself down where she had been. He offered her food and this time she accepted it quickly. She ate less delicately on this occasion, and he thought it suited her better. She surprised him when she spoke, though.

"What is your name, huntsman?" she asked as she continued to chew on the crust of the bread.

He looked at her suspiciously. "Why do you want to know?"

"Just because," she retorted with a look of juvenile incredulity on her face.

He took a deep, audible breath through his nose and let it out slowly as he considered the situation. He didn't want a charge. He didn't want to play savior anymore. He didn't want to get attached. He just wanted to get to a town where he could deposit this girl with a nice family and be on his way. "You don't need to know," he replied gruffly.

At that, he saw her visibly deflate. She continued eating, but more slowly, more mechanically. Her expression changed from one of childlike curiosity to grim austerity. He suddenly wanted to apologize, but he couldn't find the words. For all he knew, he was the first person she had encountered since being imprisoned for whatever it was she was imprisoned for. The words still remained out of his reach, however, so all he could do was slice another slab of cheese and hand it to her in silence.

When she noticed he was holding out food to her, she looked at him with a question in her eyes.

"Come on, girl. Just eat it. You're too skinny to be healthy," he pressed.

He was relieved when a bit of the childlike expression flowed back onto her face. She took the cheese and thought for a moment. "Alright, if I am to call you Huntsman, then you may call me Girl. I think it's only fair that we call each other _something_ if we are to be compatriots." She proceeded to munch on the cheese.

"Compatriots?" he asked, surprised.

"Of course," she said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "My father had a friend: Duke Hammond. Do you know if he still rules?"

The huntsman was a little confused now, but he answered. "Yes...he still rules in a small stronghold. He leads the resistance against the Black Queen. Why would you-"

"Excellent! And do you know if his son William is still alive?" she asked breathlessly.

"Well...I haven't heard of him dying," he replied honestly.

She thought about it, and a mischievous glint that hadn't been there before shone in her eyes. "You know, Huntsman, there may be a reward in this for you yet!"

He was suspicious. "Why would they be interested in you, Girl?"

She rolled her eyes at his tone of voice. "Let's just say I'm a friend of the family. I used to play with William when I was younger, and Duke Hammond is the closest I have to a living relative." Her voice trailed off. "I often hoped he and William would come save me, but it never happened. I spent years wondering if William was even alive. Now that I know he is, I wonder if he ever spares me a thought..."

"Probably not," the huntsman said curtly as he packed up the remaining supplies in the rucksack.

The girl squeezed her fists tightly in anger. "Huntsman, that was uncalled for!" He looked over at her and he had to keep from laughing.

"Alright, Girl. I apologize. Just don't be surprised when you find the duke's son has a bevy of young maids who are also vying for his affections."

He was confused when she wrinkled her nose in a bit of disgust. "That's not my goal, Huntsman." She sighed. "Never mind. Do you know how to get to his keep?"

He nodded. "Yes...it will take some doing, but we can get there in a few days."

The girl smiled. "Alright! And when we get there, you will most definitely receive your reward!"

He shook his head as he continued packing. Maybe imprisonment had left her a bit touched in the head. Honestly, though, being a fugitive now himself, it did seem like the most logical place for the two of them to go.


	3. Bad harmony

Author's notes: I checked my stats (because I'm a stats junkie) and I can't believe that there are so many people in so many different countries reading this story! Last I checked, people from Spain, Guyana, Honduras, Croatia, India, Puerto Rico, China, Turkey, Malaysia, Finland, Indonesia, Denmark, The Philippines, Sweden, Portugal, Italy, The Netherlands, Singapore, Vietnam, Belgium, Argentina, Brazil, Australia, Mexico, Poland, France, United Kingdom, Canada, Germany, Jamaica, Ireland, and the U S of A have all at least _clicked_ on the story.

(That's 32 countries. Wow.)

Thanks to Jenna, X, Pleuvoire, Fire Element13, PS, LenaLove, NUNICHAN, gategirl7, crystalstars88, and Halfhand for the awesome reviews! Thanks also to AlexBelieve, Iz0bel, Italkianhottie, hlee0890, lfish2489, nyxaurora, bokworm, geckoonwater, Nirate, jono1217, and Suz Singer for the alerts and favorites!

The next update will be in a few days. In the meantime, please review!

* * *

_Bad harmony_

_We're like bad harmony_

_We're a couple wannabes_

_Who do not know what they are doing_

_We're like bad harmony_

_We're like bad harmony_

_We are good company_

_Going down that road to ruin_

- _Bad Harmony_, Frank Black

* * *

She didn't slow him down nearly as much as he thought she would. Though she would frequently point to different things and ask what they were, she proved quite agile when it came to navigating the dead limbs and brambles. However, the prickly weeds and rotten trees got thicker and thicker the farther into the forest they ventured, and the narrow passageways were beginning to slow her down with the long skirt she was wearing.

He was making his way doggedly on the "path" they had been following when he heard her scream a ways behind him. He immediately turned and ran to find her. He'd learned the hard way that letting a girl like her out of his sight even for a second was too long. When he found her, though, he immediately calmed down and slowed his pace. She was tangled in a thicket of brambles and limbs and she couldn't get out of them.

He took his knife out and lifted her skirt. She was wearing leather leggings which would afford her protection from the thorns without slowing the two of them down, so he started cutting the skirt on her dress to mid-thigh. When she saw what he was doing, she cried out for him to stop.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

He winced at the shrill tone of panic in her voice. "Girl, don't flatter yourself," he said in reply. Even though he had alluded to his willingness to take advantage of her, he found it irritating that she would still assume he was that kind of man.

"No, idiot, the dress!" she cried. "It was my mother's!" She tried to push him away unsuccessfully. "It is the only thing I have left of her!" She was near tears at this point.

He kept slicing. He didn't much take kindly to being called an idiot, but he did feel better knowing she didn't think he was trying to have his way with her. "Look, do you think your mother would want you to be caught by that blond bastard, raped, and then most likely killed over this filthy skirt?" He ripped the last remaining fabric until it separated from the dress and dropped the mangled material on the ground. "Now come on."

She didn't follow. Instead she bent down and gathered some of the ruined fabric. She cried into what was once a very handsome, finely embroidered skirt. When she pressed against the material now, she just seemed to make her face even more filthy than it had been.

The huntsman was not a cold man. That was part of the reason why he sought refuge in drink. He dropped the rucksack on the ground and searched for something that was a little cleaner than the dirty skirt she was now cuddling to her breast. When he couldn't find anything, he untucked his own shirt and cut off a strip from the bottom. He walked over to her. "Look at me."

She looked at him, but her eyes were full of tears and malice. She hid her face again and sobbed. "It was the only thing I had left of her." She continued to cry.

"You still have your life, don't you? Doesn't that count? I highly doubt your mother would approve of your behavior in this situation. Now let go of that filthy skirt and let me see your face."

He tried to wrestle the fabric from her, but she only held it tighter to her.

The huntsman ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "Look, I tore my own shirt to clean you up, and you keep making yourself dirty. Are you always so disrespectful to the people who go out of their way to come to your aid?" He got no response from her. He growled. "Maybe this is why nobody rescued you."

After a few moments, she dropped the skirt, but she continued to cry. The huntsman almost winced when he saw her. She really was a pitiful creature. Tear tracks had already burned their way through the dirt on her cheeks, but everywhere else was a complete mess. He spat on the cloth in his hand and began using it to clean her face. Tenderly, he removed as much dirt as he could. He had the odd sensation that he was polishing a gem because the more dirt he removed the more he realized how pretty she was. Despite the fact that he wanted to see what she would look like with a fresh face, he stopped cleaning at a certain point. Dark hair, pale skin, green eyes, red lips: with a face like that, she couldn't help but get attention. If a stranger found her all cleaned up, he had no idea what they'd do with her. The dirt afforded her some protection, some blandness, an air of of the ordinary.

They moved at a slower pace than they had earlier. She was sulking and they both were tired. Finally he located a suitable resting place for the night and they both sank to the ground. He rationed out food for the night and they ate in silence. Once he was done eating, he fished another one of the wineskins out from the rucksack. He pulled out the stopper with his teeth and drank deeply. Midway through his drinking, though, he heard the girl scoff at him.

"If you've got something to say, say it." He was more tired than angry, but he doubted she could tell the difference.

She sniffed, still crying, though it was getting harder to see her face in the fast dimming light. "Why do you drink, Huntsman? Are you trying to forget something?" she sneered.

He sighed, not looking for a fight. "You're too young, Girl. You wouldn't understand." He took the opportunity to drink some more.

"Are you so mean to me because someone broke your heart? Are you trying to forget the girl who made you into the wretch you are today?"

It was his turn to scoff. "A wretch? You certainly are one to talk, aren't you." He continued to drink.

She bristled with anger now. "She probably did not even love you."

"Don't," he warned without thinking, his voice low and dangerous. "Hold your tongue and don't you dare say another word or I swear I will leave you here to die."

He heard her take in a sudden frightened breath.

"You cannot possibly know what I had and what I've lost. You simply cannot know, so do not start with me. You'll be lucky if you ever find anyone who loves you half as much as my woman loved me." He took a moment to calm down. "You may think me a lowly huntsman, but I was loved better than any king."

He turned away from her and hunkered down, not wanting to interact with the girl anymore. She began to cry in earnest now, quiet sobs muffled by her hands, and he wondered how much of his cleaning she would have undone by morning.

He listened to her cry for a long time, but she eventually quieted down. He was expecting her to slump against the rock the same as he was, but he heard her crawl toward him. Then she did the last thing he expected her to do: she lifted his arm same as the night before and leaned into him.

He nearly cast her off out of shock.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She jumped. "I...I didn't realize you were still awake."

"Well...I am." He was growing more and more confused by the fact that she wasn't moving away from him.

"Can we stay like this? For the night?" she asked meekly, too honest and inexperienced to be construed as seduction.

The huntsman sighed. "Suit yourself." He felt her lean further into him and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He was glad his emotions were dulled by the wine because he was feeling some things he'd rather not contemplate at the moment. Still, he had to ask. "Why are you doing this?"

He felt her shrug. "You are the only person who cares about me." Then he heard her sigh. "You might not care _much_ about me, but you still haven't left me to die out here, so that has to count for something."

She might as well have just stabbed him through the heart. "Don't say that. There has to be somebody," he offered hopefully.

"No, I do not really think there is. You said so yourself: why did no one try to save me?"

"That was supposed to be a joke."

"You don't tell very good jokes."

"I...I'm sorry about your dress. I didn't realize it was important, but my main concern right now is getting us both to safety."

"I know." She absentmindedly grabbed a handful of his shirt in one hand and fiddled with it as she thought. "I am sorry I reacted so poorly when you were only trying to help." She trailed off. "You are the only person who has tried to help me...in... How long ago was King Magnus killed?"

The sudden change of subject was a bit startling. He hadn't thought about that in a long time. He thought back and counted. "Seven years ago, why?"

"Hmm...then as of yesterday, I am sixteen. I have been locked up since the night he died."

Sixteen? He knew she was young, but to put a firm number on it was almost too much to think about. He felt very old lying next to her. And why was she locked up when the king died? The huntsman thought all members of court were killed that night. "Why does the queen want you dead?" he asked, trying to find out more information about the girl who yesterday he had refused even to give his name to.

She took a breath before answering. "The more puzzling thing to ponder is why she kept me alive at all." She sighed with exhaustion. "Surely a child would not have been a threat to her rule."

He knew there was something more to what she had said, but in his current state, he couldn't fathom what it was. The king and his daughter had been killed that night; there were witnesses. With them dead, so too died the hope of the kingdom being restored. Before he could continue down that dark line of thought, however, he felt her snuggle into his side and realized how extremely tired he was. He was definitely too tired to deal with this kind of conversation tonight. "Don't talk anymore. We both need to get some rest."

And with that, neither spoke again until morning.


	4. I won't be denied

Author's notes: Hello everyone! Thanks so much for all the awesome reviews, alerts, and favorites!

On the alert/favorite front, thanks to Islandcutie, penguinsrpals, Azure83, LavendaK, jesuisperdu, marblau, PrincessAndula, purplefeather21, allymcnally, Sweet Tangerine 89, thingsleftunsaid, TheatreAddict, Sea-Glass88, MangaGrl2665, libfulknot, GrangersTwin666, EzraFitzLove, Addled2, Duskykins, and pinkalli.

On the review front, super thanks to Addled2, crystalstars88, LenaLove, Hafthand, Islandcutie, scorpio17910, Pleuvoire, bokworm, emmmz, X, al5654, PS (I totally agree with you on the speech front, btw), Fire Element13, NUNICHAN, and piper!

Hope you guys like this chapter. It's a little longer because it'll probably be a few days before I can update again. Let me know what you think! Thanks again for reading this story. :)

* * *

_Through this night I wander_

_It's morning that I dread_

_Another day of knowing of_

_The path I fear to tread_

_Into the sea of waking dreams_

_I follow without pride_

_Nothing stands between us here_

_And I won't be denied_

- _Possession_, Sarah McLachlan

* * *

The girl's long stent in the prison was beginning to show its effects. The fastest way out of the Dark Forest and into the realm of Duke Hammond was through the Snowy Mountains, but when they started climbing the foothills, the girl's stamina began to wain. After the third rest, the huntsman grew frustrated and took her by the hand. She was tired, but they had to keep moving. She followed obediently as he pulled her along, like Orpheus leading his doomed bride from the underworld.

When she stumbled, he gathered her up in his arms and continued onward. She apologized for being so weak, but there was nothing that could be done about it. The girl had lived the last seven years of her life in a small cage, and expecting her to now be able to literally climb mountains was out of the question. He knew she would trudge alongside him if she could, but her current physical weakness did not diminish her defiant inner strength.

She was breathing a bit shallowly, she was so light that it worried him. She needed to be getting more food in her if she was to maintain her health. Still, even though he didn't want to admit it, it made him feel an unusual sense of calm to hold her near. The change in scenery was also helping to put a spring in his step. The vegetation was growing more lushly and every once in awhile, he would even see a flower blooming wildly from the dark, woody vines. It filled his heart with happiness to know they would soon be able to put the Dark Forest and everything in it behind them.

He continued up the hill and just as he reached the top, the ground began to shift. Panic filled his heart. He tried to keep his balance and step backwards, but he wasn't fast enough, and before he could even throw the girl to safety, the ground caved in and they were both tumbling down. When he landed, the girl flew out of his arms and rolled along the cavern floor to rest at the opposite wall. Debris rained down upon him until he was sure he was going to be crushed. He pushed up with his body, but he couldn't free himself, and when he finally got enough rock and dirt out of the way with his one free arm to see what was going on, he almost choked with terror.

Just a few yards away, a troll was staring down at him, as if it were trying to decide whether or not it would be worth it to unearth this unexpected snack.

The huntsman tried to hold his breath and not move, but his eyes darted furiously to try and find the girl. Had the troll already dispatched her and moved on to him? They were terrifying beasts, known for their strength and not much else. Few saw a troll and lived to tell the tale.

Just then, he heard the girl behind the troll and he cursed silently. Why wasn't she running? If the situation hadn't been so dire, her next action might have been humorous.

She _roared_ at the troll.

The troll turned its attention away from the huntsman, and the huntsman cursed. He started yelling at the beast to reclaim its attention to no avail. He scrambled and found a rock within reach that he lobbed at the creature's head.

That got its attention, and made it angry.

The troll straightened to its true height, nearly 15 feet tall, and a terrible roar erupted from its mouth. It turned back to the huntsman, which had sort of been his plan. However, now that he was thinking about it, the huntsman realized there was no way he could possibly fight against the beast. He only had one arm free and the other arm and his axe were buried beneath debris.

The troll charged, but the huntsman heard a chain clanking and as suddenly as he began moving, the beast was jerked back. The troll lunged again, and again his advance was halted. The huntsman saw a blur of motion and before he knew it, the girl was at his side frantically trying to remove some of the debris pinning him down.

"It's chained to the far wall," she whispered as she rolled a large stone away, "but I don't know how long the chain will hold." She continued to work as quickly as she could to free his other arm.

The troll charged again at the pair, but again was yanked back by the chain. Panic spread through the huntsman's heart. "Girl, you must listen to me: leave me here. You have to run." He tried to grab hold of her arm to shake some sense into her, but she moved out of his range and continued digging him out.

"I won't," she almost sobbed. "I won't leave you!"

"You don't owe me anything!" He managed to grab her shoulder and pull her close to him. "Now just go!" he shouted, wanting to do more, to say goodbye in a better way, but knowing there was no time.

The troll charged a third time, and the chain snapped. He continued barreling towards them. In a split second, the girl closed her eyes and threw herself on top of the huntsman. He held her as best he could with one arm and braced for impact.

"**HALT.**"

Out of nowhere, a terrifying and booming voice sounded. The troll did indeed skid to a stop right before reaching them. The girl screamed when someone grabbed her, and the huntsman refused to let go. "My, my," the same voice prodded, except this time it was at a normal volume. "Who have you caught for us today, Richard?"

Somehow, the huntsman did not have enough strength to hold on and the girl was pulled from his grasp. With his view no longer obstructed, he could take in the scene: the troll stood in the center of the cavern, for all intents and purposes looking _contrite_, and a small man, just a bit shorter than the girl in front of him, was looking at her as if he had seen a ghost.

"It...it can't be." The dwarf shook his head as if to clear his vision and looked at the girl again. "Milady, is it really you?"

She stared back at him, then quickly looked over to the huntsman before turning back to the dwarf. The huntsman saw a trace of fear in her eyes. "You know who I am?"

The dwarf had seen the fear and looked back to the huntsman with a malevolent look in his eye. "Is this man harming you, milady?"

She rushed in between the dwarf and the huntsman. "No! He is my protector. Please help him!"

The dwarf eyed the pair, then suddenly relaxed. "Very well. Milady, come over here so you are out of the way. Richard, please dig the man up...gently."

At this command, the troll moved towards the huntsman quickly and began digging the man up. He was surprised to say the least, but he was also trying to hear the conversation the girl and the dwarf were having. It was in hushed tones, however, and he couldn't make out a word. The tone of voice was unmistakable, though: the little man was trying to suppress his happiness and excitement at meeting the girl.

Once the huntsman had been exhumed, the girl thanked "Richard" for his help as the dwarf beckoned for the two to follow him. "The Council of the Seven will surely want to meet with you, milady," the little man said. "There will be a feast tonight! All will join in celebration!"

The girl asked about Richard, who was apparently a tamed troll a group of dwarf miners had stumbled upon when he was just a baby. It wasn't uncommon for dwarves to rescue these orphans and put them to work in the mines. A troll's strength, tenacity, and durability could be a godsend should a mine collapse.

The huntsman was plenty confused at this point, which was getting frustrating. Ever since he had met the girl, he felt like he was part of a giant puzzle and he was missing a significant amount of the pieces. "Oy, dwarf, I thought your kind had been lost."

"Then our plan has been working," the dwarf said, almost giddily. "We live underneath the Dark Forest now, where the Black Queen's magic cannot reach us."

The three walked through a long and winding tunnel, then under a grand archway carved out of stone, and finally into a cavern that had caved in long ago. It was incredibly huge, and the sun filtered in to the green plants that covered the ground. There were pools of clear water that were fed by underground springs and small chambers built along the walls of rock. It was hard to believe they were anywhere near the Dark Forest.

"Wait here while I alert the Council," the dwarf said, then ran off as quickly as his short little legs could carry him. The huntsman saw many other dwarves looking on curiously at the pair. Some of the children were pointing and chattering away.

Realizing that for the moment, they were alone, the huntsman and the girl looked at each other. Without warning, the girl threw her arms around the huntsman's neck and leaned against him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close, relieved that she was alright, that they were both still alive.

"Why didn't you run, Girl?" the huntsman practically growled with anger born of worry.

"I couldn't," she whispered. "I couldn't leave you there to die." She held onto him tighter. "I'm sorry."

A warm feeling thawed within the huntsman's chest at hearing the girl's words. "I'm just glad you're safe now." He let out a heavy breath and continued to hold her.

The girl pulled away and looked up at him and it seemed as though she was going to say something, but before she could, there was a great commotion from the most ornate dwelling in the cavern and a very round dwarf started heralding the dwarves.

"The Pale Lady and her protector have arrived! Please prepare for the feast tonight! Show the two all the kindness they deserve!" With that, he retreated back into the dwelling. The other dwarves, however, began happily proclaiming things the huntsman could not quite make out. Four female dwarves exited the dwelling and walked directly toward the two, followed by three male dwarves. The women stopped just in front of them and the youngest woman, apparently blind, addressed the girl directly.

"Milady, we apologize. We do not have much clothing that will fit you. We offer it to you, though, that you may refresh yourself before the feast." The dwarf that was speaking continued in a slightly quieter voice. "We also request an audience with you so that we may discuss certain issues in private."

The girl looked up at the huntsman. He felt no danger here, so he shrugged. She smiled and went with the small women.

By the time the women were pulling the girl away, the men dwarves had reached the huntsman. They looked as if appraising him. "Come, noble knight. We have much to discuss."

The huntsman almost laughed. "I'm afraid you misunderstand. I am not a knight, nor do I possess a drop of noble blood."

The dwarves conferred amongst themselves. Then the man the huntsman assumed to be the leader spoke again. "It is you, sir, who seems to have misunderstood. We know much of what is happening and have been waiting for the promises of change for a very long time. Please come with us so that we may speak before the feast."

Again, the huntsman felt no threat, so he agreed to go along with them. The dwarves led him back into the ornate dwelling. The inside of the dwelling was simple and several tables surrounded a great fire. The dwarves entered first without a problem, but the huntsman had to bow his head in order to fit. The dwarves sat in chairs near the fire, but they were small and the huntsman doubted they would support his weight, so he sat instead upon a rug in front of them. The dwarf who spoke before addressed him again.

"The girl you protect, she is very special," the dwarf started. "It is imperative that you guard her with your life, but do not get attached. I know it will be hard for you, but you will be separated soon, and there is nothing you can do to prevent it."

The huntsman regarded the dwarf's words skeptically. "My goodness. Have you all gone and convinced yourselves that you're elves? Last time I checked, dwarves weren't particularly talented in the arts of clairvoyance."

The dwarf replied coolly, "Only a fool separates the sum of nature into its weaker parts. From Ask and Embla, who were made by our kind, down to the very nature of the dark forest, we have had a hand in its creation. Even all the stories in the world flow from the same source. From Odin to Zeus to Osiris to Buddha to Christ, we remember and worship all in the pantheon of the gods. The ancient races could very well be viewed as one and the same. Is it so strange that those who devote so much time to the past would not see patterns pointing to a certain future?"

"Wait," the huntsman replied. "One and the same? So there is no difference between you and me?"

The dwarf chuckled good naturedly. "There is no difference between me and you, between the green trees that grow down here in our cavern and the twisted ones that grow in the Dark Forest, even between the lowest beggar and the highest king. All is life. But...you men are young and have forgotten much, and this might be a concept too large for you to understand at the moment, so let me just tell you this: we have talents, knowledge, and skills that we keep to ourselves. If you want to disregard what we have said, do so at your own peril."

It was the huntsman's turn to chuckle. "I do everything at my own peril, dwarf."

"Fair enough. But if you insist on endeavoring in the Pale Lady's service, I have one bit of advice." The dwarf then told the huntsman of an ancient tale. "Long ago, there were two families who lived next to each other. Though they were at war, the daughter of one family and the son of the other happened to meet by chance through a hole in the fence separating their houses. They fell in love and agreed to meet in secret on the hillside above their houses. The girl got there first, but saw a lion with a bloody mouth. She ran away, leaving her veil. When the boy got to the meeting place, he saw the lion, now chewing on his beloved's veil. He assumed the worse and killed himself, falling on his own sword. The girl returned to find her beloved dead and she killed herself on the same sword." The dwarf ended the story and held the huntsman's gaze.

The story left the huntsman feeling very uncomfortable. He didn't see why they were telling him a tragic story about star-crossed lovers. "Lovely tale, but you're speaking in riddles, dwarf. What does it have to do with me?"

The dwarf sighed. "Whatever happens, do not fall on your sword, soldier."

The huntsman froze. "How...did you know I was a soldier?"

The dwarf smiled at the huntsman's reaction. "We have talents, but we also have eyes, and some things are obvious."

* * *

The huntsman attended the feast, and it was grand, and the food was delicious, but he felt unsettled that the girl was nowhere to be found. As he was helping himself to a third serving of food, a young skinny dwarf jostled him and he nearly dropped his food on the table. The dwarf sat next to him, entirely too close for comfort. Before he could say anything, however, the dwarf spoke.

"So, how do you like my new clothes?"

The huntsman was surprised by the fact that the girl's voice was coming from underneath the typical dwarf battle clothing. The person in front of him looked like a very skinny dwarf of the warrior class: leather pants, a pouch, a thick woolen shirt, a vest, leather gauntlets, and a long piece of fabric that completely concealed the face. She pulled back the fabric so that he could see what was underneath.

The huntsman was quite literally struck speechless. He knew the girl was pretty, but she had definitely benefitted more than he thought she would from a bath and running a comb through her hair.

The girl frowned slightly. "That bad?"

Somehow he found the ability to formulate words again. "You look...quite fetching as a male."

She rolled her eyes. "Huntsman, your compliments are worse than your jokes."

He couldn't stop looking at her, but she clearly didn't have the same problem with him, since she reached for a plate and piled it high with food. "I haven't seen a feast like this since I was very young."

The huntsman laughed. "Well, don't get used to it. We've got a lot of travelling ahead of us." He saw that she was still putting food on her plate. "And don't eat too quickly," he admonished. "You don't want to get sick."

She rolled her eyes again and placed the plate before her. She said a quick, silent prayer, then tucked into her meal. She savored the first bite and let out a small moan. Then she practically shoveled the food into her mouth. "This is," bite, "the best food," bite, "I've had," bite, "in years." swallow.

He laughed again. "Your table manners are almost as terrible as mine." He was happy to see she had a healthy appetite, though. After a while, he turned his attention to his own food. "What did you talk to the women dwarves about?"

The girl swallowed. "All kinds of things! And they gave me presents as well!" She grabbed a cup of water and took out a small vial of powder. "Like this." She dropped a little bit of the powder into the water and stirred it around with her finger. The water turned bright red.

"What is that?" the huntsman asked, looking at the liquid cautiously.

"It's a potion that aids your strength!" She downed the tonic straight away. When she finished, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "It's made from the blood of monstrous river-dwelling reptiles. It's sweet, too! I already feel stronger. I'll probably be able to climb the foothills on my own tomorrow."

Before the huntsman could respond, she pulled out a simple four-sided knife, about half a foot in length. "And they gave me this! It's a traditional dwarf dagger. Not much to look at, but you know it's strong if it's made by the dwarves."

He couldn't help but be worried that the girl had a knife now, but things had changed since they first met and he tried to relax. "Anything else?"

The girl's expression darkened, but the look passed before he could comment on it. She pulled out a small black pouch. "They gave me this. They said it was a bit of the Dark Forest." She held the bag like it might bite her, then quickly stowed it away again.

"What are you supposed to do with that?" the huntsman asked as he ate.

The girl frowned. "I think they expect me to fight someone I can't possibly win against." She sat quietly for a moment, but then her smile returned. "But there's no sense in worrying about it right now when there's so much delicious food to eat!" And with that, she returned to her plate and ate every last bit she had served herself.

* * *

After the feast, the whole community gathered around the bonfire they had erected in the center of the cavern. The huntsman and the girl followed suit. When all were gathered, the blind woman dwarf from earlier stood to address everyone. An expectant hush fell over the crowd.

"We have been waiting for a promise of change, and today that promise has arrived. The Pale Lady and her knight bring these glad tidings to us today. It will not be easy to undo all that has been done, but with patience and fortitude, it will happen. Where is milady?" the dwarf asked, reaching her hands out toward the crowd. A dwarf sitting next to the girl gently took her hand and led her to the blind woman. The dwarf put the girl's hand in the woman's hand and retreated. "Ah...you are here." The woman turned her face up to the sky. "The Black Queen still searches for you. She sends her forces in all directions to find you. You will be her undoing."

The huntsman was rattled and the girl looked startled at this revelation.

"How can you know such things?" asked the girl.

The woman turned her face towards the girl. "The Black Queen is arrogant. She does not know that when she touches her enemies with magic, it creates a link. As long as one flows like water, she will never know you're there. The only other she is aware of is her brother, the blond guard. Beware this man, for she knows all that he sees." The woman now took both of the girl's hands in hers. "She believes you are the only one who can undo her, and there is powerful strength in faith. This belief will be her undoing, and you will bring it about."

The woman then turned to the crowd. "Lift your voices to the gods and sing their praises!"

With that, the crowd erupted in a rousing, boisterous song in a foreign tongue, but it did not lift the huntsman's spirits. He was left with even more unanswered questions.

* * *

The dwarves sang until the moon was no longer visible from the bottom of the cavern. A place had been made up by the fire for the huntsman, but the girl was ushered inside to spend the night. The huntsman was exhausted, but he could not sleep. He hadn't drunk anything all day in an effort to remain alert in case danger broke out, but now he wished he hadn't been so cautious. He needed something to calm his mind. The dwarves were always maddening. They constantly spoke in riddles. It was enough to drive anybody mad.

He heard someone approaching quietly and turned to see who it was. In the firelight, he could make out the slim figure of the girl in her battle clothing as she knelt down beside him.

"Move over," she demanded quietly.

He had to smile. "What are you doing out here?

She knelt down next to him and shrugged. "Can't sleep inside. I'd rather lie under the stars. Mind if I join you?

He made room for her and waited for her to come closer. "How can I deny you, _milady?_ You certainly tamed them quickly."

She lay down next to him and looked up at the sky. She had a strange expression on her face. "They just know their place."

Now that she was close to him and they were alone, he again lost himself as he gazed at her face. And they must have used a fragrance in her hair because the scent was intoxicating. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply without meaning to. When he opened them, she was facing him, and her eyebrow was raised.

"God," he breathed, "you smell so much better after you've taken a bath."

She laughed. "You smell so much better when you haven't been drinking."

"Touché," he replied, grinning. She turned her gaze back to the sky. He wanted to ask her so many questions about what had happened during the evening, but she spoke before he could broach the topic.

"I've never felt...this free before."

"Neither have I," he admitted.

"Really?" she asked. "But you're a huntsman. You make your living from being in the wilderness."

He shrugged. "I guess...there's just something about being around you."

She looked back at him, her face serious. "You don't even know my name."

He felt vulnerable under her gaze. "I know enough about you to...let you this close. What more is there?"

She looked away. "There might be a lot more. Things could change."

"Things always change," he sighed, "but that's not necessarily a bad thing."

She rolled over so that her head was resting on his shoulder. "I hope you're right."

He raised his arm so that it wasn't pinned down, allowing her to get closer, knowingly disregarding the advice he'd received earlier. "Stop worrying and go to sleep."

* * *

**Edit 6/23/2012:** Thanks for reading! I will be posting an update in a few days. Just had to mention this to people who cared.

(Possible spoiler alert for next movie?)  
One of the issues I had with the movie is that William's love is portrayed somehow as less than that of the huntsman. Not really sure why, but whatever. I was doing some research for future chapters and was looking at name meanings. Checked out William. It means "protector." Then, on a whim...I checked out Eric, the supposed name of the huntsman that we NEVER HEAR IN THE ENTIRE MOVIE. I think they might have decided they were going to name him when they decided they were going to be making a sequel, because...the name Eric means "honorable ruler."

Yeah...so if you were wondering how the love triangle was going to go...it seems to be going in "Eric's" favor with William playing second fiddle, but always by the queen's side...as a protector, see? Because of his name. ::shakes head disappointedly::

**Edit 6/24/2012:** hlee0890 just let me know that the name Eric** IS** used in the movie at least once. When Snow White and the huntsman are trapped by the dwarfs, one of the dwarfs asks if Snow White is "Eric's protege." So he is actually named "Eric" during the continuity of SWatH.

**Edit 6/27/2012:** Horserider has let me know that the huntsman's name is Eric in the novelization of the movie, so he was clearly named before the movie was released. I just wonder why his name is only used once, and kind of in reference to someone else, for the whole movie. Oh well. :)


	5. For you, babe

Author's Notes at end of chapter.

* * *

_I'd walk the world for you, babe_

_A thousand miles for you_

_I'd dry your tears of pain, babe_

_A million times to you_

_I'd sell my soul for you, babe_

_For money to burn for you_

_I'd give you all and have none, babe_

_Just to have you here by me_

**_- Rebel Yell,_ Billy Idol**

_I would die for you_

_I would die for you_

_I've been dying just to feel you by my side_

_To know that you're mine_

**- _#1 Crush_, Garbage**

* * *

Early the next morning, the huntsman awoke slowly. As conscious thoughts surfaced, he remembered where he was. It slowly dawned on him that he was extremely comfortable for a change and didn't want to move. He took a deep breath, inhaling a very pleasant scent he remembered from the night before. Something shifted in his arms and he opened his eyes.

What he saw made him freeze.

Now, the huntsman was the epitome of a man. He was tall even by tall standards. He was broad of shoulder, his back was straight, his legs were strong. He swung his axe mightily against his evil foes, human and animal alike. He was a manly man. He did manly things. And since he had lost his wife, one thing he did not do was _cuddle._

However, that is exactly what he was doing at this exact moment.

He had both arms wrapped around the girl's midsection and his face was nestled against her chest. She was flush against him with one arm around his neck and one arm thrown over her face to block out the rising sun. He remained frozen, hoping that some of this would make more sense, but he just kept asking himself the same question over and over and over:

What was he _doing?_

This was a girl he barely knew and how had this happened and she was almost eleven years younger than he was and _he hadn't even been drunk last night!_ He attempted to move his arm in an effort to extract himself from the compromising position he was in, which was, by the way, in the middle of the commons in the dwarf town they had found the previous day. This was the same dwarf town where three men had taken him into a room and told him not to get attached to this girl. He hadn't had to deal with meeting fathers in a long time, and this girl technically lost hers years ago, but the thought of being taken to task by not one, but _three _angry father-types, no matter how much shorter they were than him, was something he did not want to deal with.

Despite the fact that he was a full-grown man, he succumbed to the irrational teenage desire to extricate himself from the situation before an authority figure found out what he had gotten himself into. When he finally lifted his arm, she moved, too, except in addition to sighing deeply, she tightened her hold on him and pulled his face closer to her chest. This only complicated matters, because while the majority of his brain was telling him he needed to get away from the girl as soon as possible, there was a fairly large, very calm, and quite content portion that was telling him that this was just where he needed to be.

He thought back to their previous sleeping arrangements and wondered what had led to this. The girl had leaned on him when they had been in the Dark Forest, but that had been different. He had simply been a soft place for her to rest her head. He certainly hadn't been partaking in any _cuddling_. No, he hadn't pushed her away, but he hadn't exactly been welcoming, either. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out how or why his body had so thoroughly betrayed him and gotten into this position all by itself.

He had to do something. People were going to start getting up and see them. It was going to be a scene. He didn't want to deal with it. He didn't want to wake her up either and have her know they were laying like this, but he finally decided that rolling over might get her to loosen her hold on him so that he could be freed of this position.

He rolled onto his back, but the girl clung to him even still, which meant she ended up basically asleep on top of his chest with her body pressed against the length of his side. She sighed heavily and moved her arm from her face to lay across his chest, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

This new position might have looked similar to their previous sleeping arrangements, but it did not feel the same to the huntsman, who suffered the soft tickle of her breath against the sensitive skin of his neck with her every exhale. It felt exquisite and terrible at the same time, reminding him of the occasional lazy morning spent with Sara during a time that just moments before had seemed so impossibly long ago.

He remembered how soundly he slept whenever Sara was near, and how she had always taken comfort in his presence, and how he missed her very, very much...and how the girl in his arms had probably never been loved like that in her whole life.

At that thought, there was something in his chest that snapped and he found himself giving up. He couldn't exactly name the emotion that he was feeling, but he knew that he didn't mind being there with the girl anymore, and he knew that he wouldn't care if anyone had a problem with whatever this was. He just found that it felt good for someone to take comfort in his presence, and if that meant that he was, in fact, _cuddling,_ then sobeit.

* * *

At some point, he must have fallen back to sleep, because the next thing he remembered was being roused by the girl. She was shaking his shoulder gently and telling him to wake up. He opened his eyes and saw her face and she had the cutest blush he'd seen on a pretty girl in a long time. For some reason, knowing that her rosy complexion probably had something to do with their sleeping arrangement made his heart beat double-time for a moment. He looked into her green eyes, but she only stole the occasional glance while she mumbled something about breakfast.

They had breakfast with the Council inside the ornate dwelling. The huntsman sat on the floor, but the girl was only slightly bigger than the dwarves themselves and had no problem sitting properly at the table. The girl asked questions about some of the different plants they had seen while in the cavern, and the conversation remained light and pleasant for the most part.

Several times throughout the meal, the huntsman noticed the girl's gaze lingered on the blind dwarf, but the girl said nothing. She was clearly curious, though, and seemed to want to ask something. As the huntsman was almost done eating, he caught her looking again and he shook his head. He elbowed her, getting her attention.

She looked over, startled. "What?" she whispered.

He rolled his eyes. He leaned over and said quietly, "If you've got something to ask, now is the time, Girl."

She gave him a questioning look, but when he gestured to the dwarf with a slight inclination of his head, she understood. She sat up straight, then began. "Clare, I wanted to thank you for all the help you have given us. I have had an amazing time with you all and I truly regret having to leave so quickly. You all are wise, noble, and kind."

The blind dwarf smiled and nodded. "It is you, Pale Lady, who is kind, and who will lead us all out of the dark times."

The girl spared the huntsman a glance tinged with guilt, then steeled herself to continue along her original line of questioning. "I was wondering, Clare, if I could ask you one more thing."

The blind dwarf nodded again. "Please ask. I would love to tell you."

The huntsman didn't exactly know what to make of this whole conversation, but he was quiet as the girl continued. "I was just wondering...how is it possible for you to know the things you know?"

The dwarf took a deep breath. "I was not always blind. A little over seven years ago, I was just a girl. At that time, our village was much closer to King Magnus's castle. My sister and I had been tasked that day with collecting mushrooms and other edible plants from the forest. We walked along a ridge and came across a clearing, and we met a strange sight: soldiers stood in formation without moving at all, and a beautiful blonde woman was standing behind them, commanding crows to fasten chains around her body." The dwarf reached over and felt for her glass with both hands. When she found the glass, she took a sip. "One of the birds saw us, and the woman turned around. She was so beautiful and terrifying and angry. She sent a curse at us, knocking us over the ridge. My sister died from the fall, but I survived and was found the next day by a group of dwarves who were going to the kingdom for a wedding. I couldn't see, but I somehow understood what was going to happen to the king. I tried to warn them, to get someone to tell the king the danger he was in, but I failed."

The dwarf stopped for a moment and the huntsman expected the girl to say something, but was surprised when she didn't. He looked over and saw she was weeping. He reached over without thinking and ran his knuckles down her arm. She looked over at him, then looked back at the dwarf. "I am so sorry that had to happen to you."

The dwarf smiled sadly. "We have all lost so much." At this, she cast her sightless eyes across the room, and the huntsman knew she was including him in her statement. "But I have also gained a power that will help us all. The witch created a bond between us when she cursed me, and as far as I can tell, she isn't aware that her victims have this power. It is this power that I hope you will use to guide you on your journey, and it is also my hope that I will somehow help to destroy the witch's power."

* * *

The girl and the huntsman were given fresh supplies to make their way to Hammond's stronghold and a group of dwarves led them through a tunnel that would take them fairly close to the road. As they stepped out in the sunlight, one of the dwarves cleared his throat.

"Watch out for humans," he said sharply.

The girl seemed confused. "Why is that?"

"Bandits on this road." The dwarf sniffed his nose. "And the queen's forces, besides. You'd stand a better chance of walking away unscathed from a wild troll."

With that, the girl and the huntsman parted ways with the dwarves and travelled on a course through the forest that ran parallel to the road. The ground rose at a steady incline, but the girl was able to manage it today. She definitely seemed stronger and more confident after her visit with the dwarves.

After a while, the huntsman spoke up. "How did you know her name was Clare?" he asked.

She looked at him with a bit of disbelief, then she deadpanned, "You're not very good with names, are you?" When he didn't respond, she sighed and shook her head. "I just asked her."

"Oh."

A hint of anger sparked in the girl. "Did that never occur to you?"

The huntsman thought for a while. "They did not ask my name, so I guess I did not see the need to ask theirs." He thought for a moment more. "Why did they call you...the Pale Lady?"

He saw the girl's stride falter for a moment, but she resumed her pace quickly enough. "It's a secret name...that my parents gave me. It was to allow me to travel safely if they ever came to harm. I don't exactly know how the dwarves came across that knowledge, though."

"Oh," the huntsman said once again, not really understanding why someone would have a secret name. He was about to follow up with another question about it, but the girl spoke first.

"They referred to you as a soldier. Were you one?" she asked, giving him an appraising look.

He nodded his head. "Yes. Long ago, I was indeed a soldier."

"Long ago? How old are you?" she asked.

"Ten years ago, when I was only a year older than you are now, I joined King Magnus's army to beat back the plundering hordes that ravaged the outskirts of the kingdom."

The girl stopped dead in her tracks.

"You...fought...for my...for King Magnus?" she asked.

He walked several strides past her, not realizing she had stopped. When he did, he turned around and scrutinized her. He couldn't see her whole expression, since the scarf was done up around her face, but he could see her eyes, and they were wide with surprise. "Yes. I left home without telling my mother and joined the forces." He paused and smiled at the memory. "Went out to prove myself, seek my fortune, see the world, that kind of thing."

The girl held his gaze for a moment longer, seemingly trying to make sense of what he was telling her. Suddenly, she dropped her gaze. "That was a successful campaign, if I recall correctly."

"It was. I received a tract of land. Built a house. Moved my family onto it. Met my wife and we spent a few years together." He suddenly didn't want to continue.

"What happened?" she asked.

"She died and I turned to drink." He started walking again without looking at her face. "Come on. We're wasting daylight." He didn't wait for her to catch up.

* * *

They had been walking in silence for what felt like hours when the huntsman heard an unwelcome sound approaching down the road. Horses galloped closer to them. Though they were hidden in the brush a good ways away from the road, it still made him nervous and he suddenly changed direction away from the road, pulling the girl with him.

"What the-" she started.

"Shh!" he demanded. "Listen: horses." He saw the look in her eyes as the information sank in. "Hurry."

They moved through the trees as silently as they could, the huntsman leading the girl by the hand. Suddenly, he heard an arrow flying quite close to them and was horrified when he realized it had come so close to the girl that it had snagged her scarf and pinned the blasted thing to a tree.

He helped her free herself of the scarf quickly, her hair loosely tumbling down around her face, and he began running, pulling her behind him. He could now hear the horses had stopped along the road and the sounds of a battle reached his ears.

Three bandits materialized from behind a stand of trees and came at them. The huntsman let go of the girl and grabbed his axe, dispatching the weakest one quickly. The other two, however, were much better swordsmen, and they were giving the huntsman some trouble.

"Run, Girl!" he shouted back to the girl as he continued to fight.

One of the bandits kicked him in the knee and he went down painfully into a kneeling position. He blocked a sword with the handle of his axe. He didn't know how much longer he could hold them off, but the girl didn't stand much of a chance against these two if she didn't run fast.

He felt air rush past him as the girl threw her full weight against one of the bandits. The huntsman was about to curse about how stupid she was when he realized the bandit was not fighting back. Her hands were covered with blood, and when she removed the knife from the bandit's chest, he understood why. She had used the small dagger to stab the man in the chest, most likely puncturing a lung. The bandit coughed up blood, but he was still alive. She pulled him into a sitting position and placed the knife at the bandit's throat.

"STAND DOWN," she commanded to the last remaining bandit. "Stand down or this man will die."

The bandit backed away from the huntsman, but did not sheathe his sword. "You stupid fool. Our captain has his arrows trained on you as we speak. Surrender and you might live."

She scoffed. "Bring your captain to me so that I may have a word with him." When the bandit did not move, she proceeded to slice the injured man's neck. "Do it or he _will _die." At this, the huntsman stood to his full height, towering over the bandit. No longer at a disadvantage, he lifted his axe to strike.

The bandit turned tail and ran away.

The girl removed the knife from the man's throat. The huntsman felt an uneasiness at the injury, so reminiscent of the one she had given herself the first night they had spent together. He looked at the man, who was still breathing, but he knew if the man did not receive medical attention, he would most likely die soon. "What are you doing, Girl?" he asked breathlessly. "Just...what were you thinking?"

She looked at him. "You fought for my father. You fought for me. Now I fight for you."

He looked at her confused, but before he could say anything, the bandit was back with another man, an archer who was in leather armor. The huntsman recognized the crest emblazoned across the man's chest as the red lion...of the Hammond family. The archer carried the girl's scarf in one hand and a bow in the other.

When he got closer, the archer slowed down and lifted the faceplate of his helmet.

When she saw his face, the girl practically dropped her knife.

"...William?" she whispered.

The man continued to approach slowly. "...Snow ...White?"

The huntsman looked between the two.

"Snow _WHAT?"_

* * *

**Author's Notes: This is bonkers!**

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	6. Love will tear us apart

_Do you cry out in your sleep?_

_All my failings exposed_

_And there's a taste in my mouth_

_As desperation takes hold._

_Just that something so good just can't function no more_

_Love, love will tear us apart again_

_Love, love will tear us apart again_

**- **_**Love Will Tear Us Apart**_**, Joy Division**

_Can't say why I kept this from you_

_My those quiet little eyes become you_

_Leave it where it can't remind us_

_Turn this all around behind us_

_Oh, well, I know_

_I'll fall right in to keep you out_

_But I'd like to tell you all about it_

**- **_**Turn Into**_**, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

* * *

The huntsman felt like his head was about to implode. All the things he'd experienced in the last few days started to make sense. The queen had been after this girl because she was the princess. The dwarves knew her identity because dwarf ambassadors had served on King Magnus's council. They would have told them her secret name because she was the princess_._ He felt hurt and angry that he hadn't found out about her true identity sooner. And he felt stupid because all this time he had been with her and _she was the princess!_

But at the same time, another feeling was bubbling up to the surface, a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time: hope. With the death of the king, he and all the rest of the kingdom had thought everything had been lost. He didn't know how it was possible or why the decision had been made, but for whatever reason, the Black Queen had chosen to keep the girl...no, Snow White, locked up in the tower this whole time. There was a legitimate heir to the throne. There was a reason to fight again.

All these thoughts took about three seconds to siphon through the huntsman's brain. When he came back to the present, he realized it had only been a moment since he had shouted and the girl and the archer were both looking at him. He looked at the girl...no, Snow White, and she gazed back. Maybe she was searching for approval or acceptance or something, but he wasn't in the state of mind to cooperate at the moment. A second later, she was standing in front of him defensively.

"Why did you attack us, William?" she asked defiantly.

The archer made a move to step closer, but the look in her eye must have kept him in his place. "We thought you were part of the Black Queen's forces that we ambushed on the road. I had no idea it was you until I saw your face." He did take one step closer, his voice lower now. "Snow White, milady, if I had but known you were still alive, I would have done anything - I hoped every day that you would be alright, and now look at you...you have returned to me." He beamed at her.

She, in turn, backed up into the huntsman's side, maintaining distance between herself and this William fellow. The huntsman noted that his feelings of jealousy were irrational at this point, but he couldn't help but feel satisfied that the girl...no, Snow White, was not running into the young man's arms.

William's face fell. "All this time dreaming of you, and you do not trust me?" he asked sorrowfully. The huntsman saw Snow White as she looked down, but could not discern her expression.

She walked a few paces forward and placed her hand on William's arm. "I am sorry, William. I do trust you. The last few years have been difficult for everyone and I am not the same girl I used to be. I apologize." She looked at the huntsman, then back to William. "We have been trying to get to you without the queen knowing our whereabouts, and it has left us tired and anxious. Please accept my apology." Her hand slowly fell to her side.

William was beaming again. "Of course, milady. Think nothing of it." He then lifted her hand to his lips and he kissed her knuckles. "My father will be so thrilled to see you." William turned his attention to the huntsman. "And what is the name of the brave man who has been helping the princess this whole time?"

Snow White couldn't answer because he had never given his name. She now looked at him with what seemed to be a mixture of regret, of embarrassment, of anger, and of hurt. She opened her mouth a few times, but no words came out.

The huntsman sighed. "I was but a humble subject doing his duty for the kingdom, and you need not worry yourself over my name. I am known to many simply as 'Huntsman.'"

This did not seem to bother the duke's son at all. 'Very well, Huntsman. You have my thanks, and when we reach the stronghold, you shall be rewarded richly for keeping the princess from harm."

The huntsman felt the girl's eyes on him, but he did not look up to see her expression. He wasn't even sure if he wanted a reward at this point. "Very well," he answered automatically, heavily. What had his motives been in the first place? He hadn't wanted to get involved. So why was it that now that they had found the person the girl had been looking for, he felt less inclined than ever to leave her side?

William looked to the other swordsman, who had an expression of utter shock and had probably never been a bandit after all, and gave him directions to retrieve the seriously injured man. The swordsman, surely reacting to the fact that Snow White was alive after all these years, snapped into action. William went to the side of the first man the huntsman had dispatched. He was injured, but William pulled him up to his feet and wrapped his arm around the man's back, helping him walk to the road. William beckoned the huntsman and the girl...no, princess, to follow him.

It was at this moment that something clicked in the huntsman's mind. William, son of Duke Hammond, the red lion, held the girl's scarf in his hand as he walked downhill with the injured man. It was _just_ as the dwarves had told him: the story about the would-be lovers meeting on a hill, only for the girl to encounter a lion first and leave her veil as she ran away.

He must have stood there for several moments as he tried to figure everything out. He didn't care, though. He was completely stunned by the turn of events. Someone touched his hand, and it almost seemed to burn his skin. He pulled his hand away and looked up. The girl was in front of him and her eyes were suddenly so sad. The soldiers were far away from them now. If he could have formulated words at this point, it would have been a good time, but he just couldn't. And he couldn't look at her, either. It hurt too much. A gulf had somehow opened up between them and while he might have had a desire to reach her on the other side, he didn't see a way for that to happen.

She began crying and wiped her face with her hand, leaving blood smeared across her cheek. She had fought for him. She had probably saved his life. She was the princess. She was going to make the kingdom whole again.

He didn't know why she was crying, and it made him a bit angry. They had found her childhood friend and they were going to Hammond's keep, everything she had wanted. He didn't understand why she should be sad at all. He hooked his thumb underneath the cuff of his shirt and wiped the blood off her face.

"Stop crying, Girl," he said gruffly, forgetting to call her by her name because he had always known her as this.

To his surprise, she actually smiled up at him, and this simple act cleared some of the doubt, anger, and confusion he was feeling.

He turned her around toward the road and pushed her forward. "Come on. Let's go."

They walked behind William and his men. When they got to the road, they saw a wagon overturned and several members of the Queen's cavalry dead or dying on the ground. The huntsman took the lead and Snow White followed after him. As they walked past the overturned wagon, fear iced over the huntsman's heart. The blond man was lying in the middle of the road, mortally wounded, but still clinging to a thread of life. His eyes were spinning in his head wildly, clouded with pain. Suddenly, his eyes landed on the huntsman and focused.

The huntsman got the unsettling feeling that someone _else_ was watching him through those eyes. Before he could think about it, he turned around and guided the princess away, taking her out of sight of the blond man. He doubted that it would help, though. What the blond man had seen could not be unseen. He called William over.

"What's wrong?" Snow White asked quietly.

The huntsman leaned in closely. "The blond man, the queen's brother. He is alive. He saw me. We have to move as soon as possible."

She looked absolutely stricken. "But...but she _knows_ now." she whispered. She started looking around. "She knows where I am..." She looked around, her eyes full of despair. "All this work, all we've been through, and now this?"

The huntsman pulled her close to him. "We've got to keep moving." He wasn't expecting it when she put her arms around him and held tightly to him. After a moment, and against his better judgment, he placed a hand soothingly on her back.

William approached. The huntsman found himself resisting the urge to force the princess off of him. "What is it, Huntsman?" he asked urgently, evaluating the situation.

"We must move now!" said the princess. "The dwarves told us about the queen's brother and how she sees what he sees."

William looked confusedly at the girl. "What are you talking about?"

The huntsman cut in. "It's magic. The queen has been using her brother, the blond man over there, as a scout of sorts." When William gave the huntsman a dubious look, he continued. "I know it doesn't make a lot of sense, but it's true. The dwarves told us many things, and some of what they foretold has already come to pass."

Snow White looked at him surprised, a question in her eyes. He simply looked at her and nodded, answering the question without words.

"We must move now, William," the princess demanded. "If you do not want to spare any of your men, we will continue on the way we were."

"I cannot allow that," said William, troubled with the suggestion. "I will accompany you both, along with two of my best men. We will get you to the keep before nightfall tomorrow."

"Very well," said the huntsman, pushing the girl away from him and looking at her, then looking at William. "We will continue on and you and your forces can catch up."

William agreed quickly and went about summoning two of his finest men. The girl and the huntsman continued toward the keep on foot. William and the two swordsmen caught up very quickly, though, so there was no real time for conversation. The huntsman wasn't feeling very much like talking to the princess anyway.

When they had walked far enough that William's forces were out if his sight, the huntsman turned off the road and back into the forest.

"What do you think you are doing, Huntsman?" William demanded.

The huntsman sighed. "Sir, the queen's forces know where we are. We will be safer traveling away from the road." He continued to walk towards the trees. Snow White followed him.

William sighed and followed after, along with his men. The huntsman, however, took note of his behavior. William appeared doubtful that the queen could really find them. The young man seemed to think that they were in the middle of nowhere and therefore out of harm's way.

"How is your father?" the princess asked behind him.

"He has been leading the resistance against the queen for many years now. He will be thrilled to know that you have managed to not only survive, but escape," said William. "You have grown so beautiful, Snow White," he also added quietly. "I never imagined..."

"Thank you," she cut him off. "You are too kind. How many men does your father lead? Does he have a cavalry? How large is his infantry? Does he plan to attack the queen's castle?"

William seemed put off with her reaction to his compliment, which made the huntsman smile. "Well...the duke has been taking in refugees of Tabor for nearly seven years now. We have a small cavalry. If we armed every man, we would have a good sized infantry, four hundred strong, perhaps."

"And what of arming the women?" she asked.

William laughed. "You are so different from anyone I have ever met."

Snow White was serious. "William, you don't understand what we are going to be up against. If I am to lead a force aga-"

"What?" William cut in. "My father will be leading a force against the queen, milady. You will stay in the keep, safe from harm."

"This is my kingdom," Snow White seethed, "and I refuse to sit back and watch while its fate hangs in the balance."

"Snow White, think about it," William reasoned. "We just got you back. You are the only heir to the throne. It would be sheer stupidity to put you on the front lines. Risking you by subjecting you to arrows, boiling oil, and fire-throwing trebuchets strikes me as utterly ludicrous."

She stopped walking. William stopped as well, and eventually the entire party halted. The huntsman waited for the argument to end.

"My father went on military campaigns and he was king!" she shouted indignantly.

"Your father had your mother to run the kingdom in his stead, and you to take up his mantle should he lay down his life," he told her calmly.

She cast her anger-filled eyes around, meeting the huntsman's for a moment, looking for footing, but could find no words.

"You just don't understand, princess," William said, still with the same gratingly calm voice. "Your life is very valuable."

"More valuable than those who would choose to fight for my kingdom?" she demanded.

William sighed. "Come on, we have to keep moving. We will discuss this when we get to the keep." With that, he tried to take her hand, but she sped up and walked past the huntsman instead.

The huntsman turned and caught up with her, walking side by side, and they traveled in this formation until they reached a place to camp.

When they found a suitable area to rest, things had not been resolved between the two. The huntsman started a fire and pulled some food out of his rucksack. He unthinkingly sliced off a piece of bread for the princess, but felt foolish when he realized William had already given her some of his food instead. He ate in silence and found a place to sleep as the sun set quickly.

From his own rucksack, William pulled a worn blanket and placed it on the ground between him and one of the swordsmen. "Milady, I think it would be wise for you to sleep here so that we may guard you tonight."

Snow White was very unsure. She looked to the huntsman. He looked back at her, but said nothing. With his lack of response, her eyes became heavy with sadness. She acquiesced, taking her place between William and the soldier.

The forest was very quiet at night, but the huntsman could not sleep. Aside from the crackle of the dying fire, there was nothing to disturb him besides the soft breathing of his companions. He wished he had some wine to drown out the thoughts that came unbidden to his mind, or at least could take comfort in the girl's presence, but both were out of his reach. He sighed heavily, weighing his options.

The princess began making quiet sounds in her sleep. He took note, but did nothing to soothe her. She was too far away to reach. He doubted he would do any good at this point anyway.

She suddenly jolted awake, looking around wildly, only calming once she saw his face across the fire. As quietly as she could, she got up and walked around the camp to sit by his side. She leaned on his arm, but he shook her off.

"Not tonight, princess," he said flatly.

She looked at him with those sad eyes. "I...I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Sorry for what?" he asked in a disinterested fashion.

She sighed. "I would have told you, but I thought...you didn't care, and that...you wouldn't believe me."

"Well, you were probably right about the former." He looked at her, trying to keep the emotion from his voice. "You should go back and get some sleep."

She looked at the fire, her eyes vacant as she stared. "I can't. I keep having nightmares. I'm back in the tower, and she is about to kill me. She is about to suck the life out of me and eat my heart."

He fought the urge to throw his arm around her and pull her close. "You can't sleep with me tonight."

She seemed to sink lower. "Why not?" she whispered.

The huntsman turned to her. "You won't be able to rely on me much longer, princess."

She sat up. "What do you mean?"

He shook his head, thinking back to what the dwarves had told him, then continued. "I mean, once we get to the duke's keep, I think it would be best for everyone if I took my leave. I have served my purpose. You will no longer need me."

Her eyes welled up with tears. "But you...you're the only person I have... If you leave, I'll be all alone."

"Are you kidding me? You'll be surrounded by people who care about you, who want what's best for you. What will you need with an old drunkard of a huntsman?" He sighed. "You don't know how William feels about you, do you?" he asked, a stab going through his heart in the process.

She looked at him with her piercing green eyes. "What does that have to do with anything? I have been alone for so long, and now that I finally..." She started to cry. "Why now? Why are you abandoning me now? When we're this close?"

He shook his head. "You're a princess. We're not the same."

"I am a princess who has spent the last seven years locked in a prison cell. You've most likely been leading a far more luxurious life than I have," she countered. "We're probably more alike than you even realize."

"You just don't understand," he said quietly. "I will be in the way of your new life. It's best for everyone if I am out of the way."

She was crying now, but her eyes were filled with anger. "You and William seem to think I understand nothing of what is to happen. The dwarves told me something, too, that would happen, and if what they told you has already come to pass, then it is only a matter of time before what they told me will happen. And you're going to leave me! You're going to leave me to face this all alone!"

"The dwarves told you something?" he asked urgently. "What did they say?"

She sniffed. "They said, 'You will lose your heart to conquer one of stone.' I don't know what that means. I don't want to lose my heart. I keep having nightmares of what the queen will do to me when she finds me. I am so scared."

He sighed, wanting to wipe her tears away, but knowing that it wouldn't make the situation any easier. "You are going to have to be brave, princess."

"Stop calling me that," she demanded.

"But that's who you are," he insisted.

"I don't even know your name," she said sadly.

He thought for a moment. He stared into the dying embers. "The less you know about me, the faster you can forget about me when you take back your kingdom," he replied, his voice lifeless.

She let out a small sob, but he could tell she was still angry. She got up and started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"That is none of your concern!" she retorted. "Leave me alone, since that's your plan anyway."

He watched her as she walked away, scared of what would happen if he let her go, but terrified of what he would do if he caught up with her. Shutting her out had been one of the harder things he'd had to do in recent memory, and the entire situation was tearing him apart. Plus, what if she was relieving herself? He didn't need to add insult to injury by finding her in an embarrassing position.

He waited for a few minutes for her to return, but soon began to grow nervous. Suddenly, he heard a stifled cry and choking. He quickly roused William from his sleep and told him the princess was missing.

They used the reflection of the moonlight on the snow to follow her footprints and found her on the ground, convulsing. William ran to her and gathered her in his arms. The huntsman spun around, seeing signs of another person, but he could not find any footprints besides his, William's, and the girl's leading away from the location. He was startled by a wail of sadness that came from William.

"She's gone!" he cried, his voice full of sorrow. "I just found her and she's gone."

The huntsman stood for several moments, unable to comprehend what William was saying. Then he saw her pale, lifeless hand in the moonlight as a rotten apple rolled out of it and dropped into the snow. He sank to his knees, his heart filled with guilt and regret.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Thank you so much for the reviews and alerts! I am so glad you are all still enjoying this story! Thanks to August Dawn, tiva auggie, HRM Mia, kyoko minion, alex20-pl, Syrena Swift, Kristin04, Kristinwd40, Pin11, Sepsis, Abandoned123, Snowy midnight 942, JG80, Eregyrn, Ayrpluto72, Pleuvoire, tee86elle, lilimora, DragonEye19, livelaughlove22, SadDaysLove, Dreamer Mist, vmg, gingergirl87, jadyn91, lwl208, sulou, abbyli, deskynowsky, GabzHaug, Black Elegance, Fire Element13, scorpio17910, Serena Swift, Horserider, C. I. TigerFan , EstelleFabregas, Islandcutie, PS, X, and xXxJoker47xXx.

I will try to update in a few days. Please let me know what you think about the developments in the meantime! Thanks again for everyone who commented and put this story on their alerts! :)


	7. Whatever words I say

**Apologies up front for the short chapter and the extremely long A/N at the end of said chapter.**

* * *

_However far away,_

_I will always love you_

_However long I stay,_

_I will always love you_

_Whatever words I say,_

_I will always love you_

_I will always love you_

**- **_**Lovesong**_**, The Cure**

_In my glass coffin_

_I am waiting_

**- **_**Hardly Wait**_**, PJ Harvey**

* * *

The four men made the rest of the journey to Duke Hammond's keep in silent despair. They had fashioned a pallet out of the old blanket, some tree limbs, and a few leather straps to transport the young princess's body. There were no words to convey the utter sense of loss each man was feeling. Snow White had been the one ray of hope that could have rallied so many to take back the kingdom. Now, all was lost.

The huntsman tried not to think about anything. When he couldn't keep the thoughts at bay, all he could think about was how this had all been his fault. If he had just let her lean against him, if he hadn't told her about his decision to abandon her once they got to the stronghold, if he hadn't just been thinking about himself and his hurt pride, she would still be alive.

When they finally arrived at the keep, it was almost unbearable. News had reached the refugees that the princess was alive, so to walk into the courtyard carrying her dead body was like killing all that newfound hope, as if they were spreading a plague of despair upon all those who dared to think that the Black Queen's reign was near its end.

The duke rushed out of the fortress when he saw the four men approaching. He might have asked what happened, but none of the men stopped and none of them spoke. They continued toward the small chapel within the walls of the stronghold and entered silently. They walked to the altar unimpeded and gently placed the princess's body upon it.

People began filtering in, but the huntsman didn't notice. He was lost in his own memories of the girl who lay dead in front of him. She had relied on him and he had failed her. He sank to his knees and a broken-hearted wail escaped his throat. He felt consumed with grief. This was not what he had wanted. He had wanted to get her to safety so that she could take back what was rightfully hers. He had wanted the very best for her. He had wanted to do right by her.

Now she was gone.

He spent hours in front of the altar, torturing himself over what he did and what he could have done. This wasn't the first time that he had lost someone, but the prior experience didn't make dealing with this loss any easier. It might have made it worse, even, because he knew what the next few months would entail. He might imagine she was in the same room with him. He might talk out loud, expecting a reply, then realizing she wasn't there at all. Just knowing the true finality of death made it even more unbearable.

He wondered if the dwarves had known this would happen. Was she fated to die like this? Was he supposed to continue carrying on despite failing her? Truth be told, he did want to die. His wife had met an untimely end, but it hadn't been his fault. He felt truly terrible about his wife's passing and he would have done almost anything to have changed her fate. He had not been to blame for Sara's death, though. This was different. He had never felt so terribly culpable about anything in his whole life. The girl's death was a symbolic one, too. It was the final nail in the coffin of the resistance. There was no legitimacy, nothing else to fight for without her alive.

And he had been cruel to the girl on more occasions than one, refusing to tell her his name even. He had been given a chance to be her noble knight in shining armor and he had failed at every turn.

He wiped his eyes and looked around him. The sun had set and he found himself alone with the dead girl. He toyed with one of the knives at his belt and he considered ending it right there. He had suffered so many losses in his life and this one seemed to take the cake. The words of the dwarves reverberated in his head, though.

_Whatever happens, do not fall on your sword, soldier._

What did they want from him? What could he possibly do now without her? What was his purpose now?

He got up and looked at the girl lying still and silent on the altar. She still had her dwarven clothes on and her scarf around her neck. He fingered the place where the duke's son had shot an arrow through the fabric, changing the course of their journey.

Then he looked at her face. She was so pale and so fragile looking. He imagined her rolling her eyes at him and giving him a hard time for his awful jokes and his terrible compliments. The huntsman wished so badly that she would look up at him now and chide him for how stupid he was being for behaving this way. He knew she would never look at him with those green eyes again, and he knew without a doubt that he would miss her for as long as he lived.

He moved some of her dark hair with his fingers and tucked it behind her ear. Had this really been the girl he had been journeying with for days? How could he have been so cruel to her? She looked so small lying there in front of him. Had he forgotten how frail she appeared? How had he resisted the urge that now tore his heart apart to scoop her into his arms and keep her safe?

He stroked her skin gently as he leaned over her, tears dropping onto her cheeks as he did so. He finally spoke to her, wishing he could go back and speak these words to her in life instead of whispering them to her in death.

"My name...is Eric Jaeger," he admitted quietly. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "And I am so, so sorry."

He looked at her for a moment longer, then turned and left. The only thing he wanted to do now was to stay drunk until he was dead.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **A short update, but it didn't feel right 1) putting this in with the events of the next chapter or 2) stringing this out to a more substantial 2000 words. I hope you're all still enjoying this. I have been getting a few reviews about Snow White's characterization from anonymous reviewers. Since I can't reply to those reviews, I will respond here.

I realize that her characterization in this story is not exactly like her characterization in the movie, and that's on purpose. I didn't find her actions and her abilities to make sense when I took into account all the things that she had been through and all the things she had to face. That's kind of where this story came from. I also chose to make her younger than in the movie for several reasons. The most significant is that it goes back to the original story, which had Snow White becoming more fair than the evil queen at age SEVEN.

Yeah...that's not creepy...

**However, if you are willing to slog through what will probably end up being 40k+ words and put your faith in me that you will get a story that is worth the time you put into reading it, then I promise to make it worth your while. I feel honored that so many of you are taking time out of your busy lives to geek out about SWATH and read my story. That's pretty awesome. :) WARM FUZZIES!**

Alright, now that that's out of the way, let me thank everybody who has been leaving reviews and subscribing to the story! I don't know what is going on with the reviews/comments right now, but since it leaves anonymous reviews as "Guest," I don't know who you are unless you left your name in the actual review. :(

Super thanks to DRadcliffe11, Adroit Mademoiselle, AmberRedRose, Mara-DragonMaster, MetalChickCrisis2040, may cantaloupe, crystalstars88, Pleuvoire, Theatre Addict, Hafthand, Several Anonymouses (and to the one who suggested Shivaree's song "Goodnight Moon," I totally agree with you!), GabzHaug, C. I. TigerFan, Amanthya, truuuuls-7396, BadSam, EugeniaVictoria, oldskoolsocks, Vicky Flores, Sepsis, LenaLove, and gentlelove! If I've left anybody out, I am sorry. The new review system makes it hard to keep track of everybody.

Thanks again, and sorry for the extremely long A/N. I don't know any other way of responding to reviews from anonymous users. I will try to upload the next chapter in the next few days. Thanks for reading!


	8. If I believe in you

Author's notes are at the end!

* * *

_Hey baby, there's something in your eyes_

_Tryin' to say to me_

_That I'm gonna be alright if I believe in you_

_It's all I want to do_

**- **_**Crawling Back To You**_**, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers**

_I'll be what you want me to be_

_To bring you to your knees_

_Your lover, your daughter_

_We'll move in slow motion_

_Falling down, down, down_

_Into icy water_

_You took a girl like me_

**- **_**A Girl Like Me**_**, The Desert Sessions**

* * *

He wanted to see this through, and that meant staying for the funeral. Once she was safely buried in the ground, he would move on, finding a quiet place to spend as many months drunk as it took for him to forget the growing void in his chest. He was like a ghost at the tavern. He didn't talk to anybody. He didn't ask any questions. He only realized on the second day of his bender that no one had asked him for money and someone else was paying for his drinks. When he briefly reached a point where his intoxication ebbed long enough for him to ask a coherent question, he discovered William was covering his tab.

He'd always liked that William fellow.

It was customary in these parts for a vigil to be kept at the body's side for three days before burial, so on the third morning, he expected some news of the funeral and tried to maintain sobriety for a few hours. When he asked the barkeep, the man also expressed confusion as to what was happening. The barkeep mentioned that William had been in here the previous night and had spoken to the huntsman, but the huntsman had absolutely no recollection of any conversation at all.

Wait, he did remember one thing: he recalled looking at William and feeling the oddest sensation that he was looking at the girl for a moment instead. His heart sank because he knew this was just the beginning when it came to seeing her face everywhere it wasn't. There was something in William's expression that he couldn't quite describe, though, a similarity there...

It was probably just the look of pity and disgust he imagined she would have been giving him. He'd be disgusted with himself, too, if he'd taken the time to properly sober up.

He ventured out of the tavern unsteadily for the first time in days. The sunlight that filtered through the clouds was blinding, but he made his mind up that he was going to get answers. The first stop was the church. He walked in, expecting to see the girl's body on the altar, but it was not there. He looked around wildly for anyone. His eyes rested upon a young nun who seemed shaken by his appearance.

"Where is the girl?" he demanded with a slur.

She wrung her hands slowly as she looked to the altar, then back to him. "A most unusual thing, milord..."

"Don't," he ordered.

She looked at him, confused.

"I'm not a lord. I'm just a man," he corrected her.

"I see," she said. "I just...well, no matter." She stopped ringing her hands and looked around. "You're a friend of Sir William's, so I will tell you. The duke has forbade the priest from performing the final rites for the girl. The ironsmith has been working around the clock to fashion a casket with no walls, and Duke Hammond ordered glass to be removed from some of the windows in the small chapel in the keep." She looked around again. "William has been running the keep for the past few days while his father retires to his chambers. It is our belief that he intends to keep the girl with him...indefinitely."

"What?" the huntsman almost shouted in surprise and disgust.

The young nun shook her head. "Yes, it is disturbing, but the duke has been acting strangely ever since he saw the princess's body. I have never seen him like this. It is as if his mind is fevered, yet he is not ill." She looked over to the altar. "Though it is true that the princess did not seem, well..._right,_ either."

"What do you mean, sister?" the huntsman pressed.

"Well, I've seen the bodies of those who have died within the walls of this keep, and after three days of vigil, it's usually high time for them to be buried and returned to the Lord once and for all. But the princess...she seemed to almost be...sleeping." She shook her head. "I've only seen a few cases like it, and in all of those cases, the person was a saint." She quickly looked up, contrite. "I don't mean to be doubting the princess's virtue! I mean canonized saints, saints who have performed verifiable miracles...like...Saint Eustace!" She looked sidelong at the huntsman and gave him a withering glance. "You are familiar with him, are you not?"

"Yes, sister. I am familiar with many saints. You're not answering my question, though. Where is the princess now?"

She sighed. "We are not sure exactly where the body is at this moment, but she is probably in the duke's chambers by now." She shook her head again. "This is a most unsettling turn of events." She looked around for a third time before leaning in close to the huntsman. She caught a whiff of the alcohol on his breath and wrinkled her nose, but continued a moment later. "It is rumored that the duke loved Queen Eleanor dearly, and the princess does so resemble her." She sighed again. "Queen Eleanor, the Lady of Light. When she died, it was said that Duke Hammond was beside himself with grief. I was too young to notice, though. Everyone was overcome with sadness at the good queen's passing."

"Are you implying that the duke's intentions are..." he didn't even know how to finish that question. What_ was _the duke doing with the princess's body?

The nun's eyes spoke volumes, but what they said were discordant with what she spoke. "I am certain the duke is simply trying to deal with his sorrow from the loss of the princess, just like the rest of us. He's managing the best he can under the circumstances."

The huntsman tried to collect his thoughts, but he failed utterly. He mumbled thanks to the young nun, then walked back outside. The sky was grey, but the brightness of the day still hurt his eyes. He returned to the tavern, having nowhere else to go. He indulged the desire to mull over everything he had learned with another drink.

Of course, one drink led to two, and two drinks led to many more, and he didn't manage to mull over anything except his bottomless pint of ale. By the time he surfaced again, he felt pain in his head and had the vague sense of being dragged inside a building. He slurred some words, but even he wasn't sure what he was trying to say.

"Huntsman, be calm." It was William's voice. "You are inside the keep." William pulled him along the stone corridor. "You got into a fight and the barkeep was sick of watching you drown yourself in drink, so he kicked you out." They stopped in front of a door and William leaned the huntsman against the wall while he opened it. He pushed the door open, then looked at the huntsman.

William stood there for a moment with his hand on the huntsman's shoulder supporting him, trying to find the right words. "Everybody is hurting, Huntsman. You are not alone in sharing that pain, but there is a resistance to lead, and I can't keep checking in on you." He looked down the corridor, then back to the huntsman. The huntsman felt William sizing him up with a stern eye. "You probably won't even remember this tomorrow morning, will you?"

The huntsman was about to say something, but before he could, William pulled him by his vest away from the wall and pushed him into the room. William guided him to the bed, then turned and left. The huntsman leaned back on the bed. It was very comfortable, but he was too drunk to care. A moment later and he was completely passed out.

An indeterminable time later, he heard someone open his door. He looked up and saw through the window that it was still dark outside. He lifted his head and he saw the strangest sight.

He could have sworn _she_ was standing there, peering cautiously at the hall through a slightly opened door. She was wearing a white gown and looked almost like an angel. She closed the door and proceeded to drop something on the ground, then grabbed a firm handful of the skirt and quickly pulled the garment up and over her head. She bent down and rummaged through the articles on the floor. She picked up what looked to be her dwarf shirt and pulled it on over her head, then grabbed the trousers out of the pile and quickly slipped them on. She sat on the ground to pull on some socks before wrapping her scarf around her neck, then unlacing her boots to put them on.

At this point, the huntsman groaned. This was definitely a strange thing to be imagining, but it wasn't beyond the realm of possibilities. He remembered seeing his wife in the strangest places after she had died. He sat up and rubbed his face.

He expected her to disappear, but the girl instead jumped and rapidly scooted against the door. He laughed at his own imagination. "Don't mind me, princess. I surely won't be doing you any harm." He stretched, then leaned back again, hoping she would soon disappear and he could go back to sleep.

A moment later, he heard her rise to her feet. "Um..." she whispered, "Eric?"

He opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows. The whole scene was a bit heartbreaking, but it also made him smile. "So we're on a first name basis, are we, princess?"

Her eyes were wide and she opened her mouth a few times, but no words came out. Tears started dripping down her cheeks. She launched herself at him and as this was just the vision of an drunken aching heart, he was expecting her to land with the weight of an invisible feather. This, however, was not what happened. She landed on him with the bodily crash of a real, corporeal being, and soon she had her arms around his neck and she was shaking and crying and pulling him closer.

He froze.

Seeing visions of lost loved ones was not what would be considered by anybody to be "normal," but actually feeling the weight of one of these visions, smelling the scent of these visions, and wiping away the wet tears of these visions was beyond the pale. He sat up straight, pulling her unceremoniously with him, and she slid down into his lap. She looked at him questioningly, but hopefully.

"This...this is witchcraft," he reasoned gravely.

She put her arms around him again. "Yes," she quietly sobbed, "yes, it is!"

He pulled her away from him, pushed her onto the bed, then stood up and walked away from her. "No, I mean, you...you're dead! What are you doing here?" he was almost shouting.

"SHHHH!" she begged. "They might find out I've awoken!" She then walked closer to him, but he took a cautious step back. She stopped. Her face fell in disappointment. "It's me...it's Snow White. It's the girl you have been traveling with...the girl you saved."

He looked at her for a long while, disbelieving. Finally, he crossed his arms. "Prove it."

She looked around the room, then up to him, an expression of helplessness in her eyes. "How?" she asked.

He reached an arm out and caught a corner of the scarf. He wiggled his finger through the hole at the end. "How did this happen?"

She looked down and saw what he was referring to. "We were running through the forest and William mistook us for the queen's forces. He fired an arrow at us, but it only hit my scarf and pinned it to the tree."

He moved closer to her and brushed her hair away from her neck as he pulled the scarf lower. He traced his finger along the scabbed wound on her neck. "How did this happen?"

She looked him in the eye and swallowed. "I thought you were going to sell me after you found me."

He took a deep breath, only now beginning to hope that this was really her. He pulled the collar of his own shirt down to expose a wound that ran just beneath his collarbone. He had gotten it in the scuffle with William's men in the forest, but he hadn't mentioned it for several reasons. She saw it and her eyes filled with fear.

"I...I don't know how you got that injury." She looked down. "But I am telling the truth! It's me!" She sank onto the bed, holding her head in her hands. "I can't remember. Was it when the hill collapsed beneath us? Was it when you fought off Finn?" She began to cry again. "Please," she begged as she looked up at him. "Please, Eric, you have to help me. There's no one else here I can trust."

The huntsman's mind was spinning. "How is this possible?" he managed to ask as he stumbled over to her.

She looked up at him hopefully. "You believe me?" she asked, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

He sank to his knees in front of her. "How is this possible?" he asked again. "You're dead..."

She smiled, her eyes still full of tears. "I was tricked. The queen found me, but she disguised herself as William and gave me a poisoned apple. I would have called out to you had I known it was the queen, but I thought it really was William...until I took a bite of the apple and she transformed." She looked away and shook her head. "I have never seen anything like that." She continued in a whisper, "She changed into a flock of blackbirds."

"But you were dead. You were cold," he insisted.

"I don't know how it happened, but I was alive the whole time, and aware, too."

He looked at her, knowing he wasn't able to contain the shocked expression on his face. "You were aware...the whole time?"

She shook her head. "I mean, I was asleep for some of it, but it wasn't unnatural sleep. But yes, I was aware. I could hear when people talked to me and I could feel when they touched me. I could smell the incense of the church, and later the dusty chambers of the duke."

The huntsman looked away. So that's how she knew his name. He looked back to her, questioningly. "But...how are you here now? How did you wake up...or, snap yourself out of it? Did the spell just wear off?"

The girl shrugged. "I remembered what Clare said about belief and how it made magic stronger. I thought maybe the opposite would work, too. I concentrated on believing that the spell would end and that I would be able to find you and we would both be able to leave this place. It took two days, but it seems to have worked." She smiled at him, very satisfied with herself.

He was blown away by her answer. She had been thinking of him? She was alive and she had come back to find him? He was overcome in that instant with so much emotion. She was here. She was alive and she had returned to him. He didn't know how to handle this rush of feeling. All he could do was lean in and wrap his arms around her waist, burying his face against her torso. He shed tears of relief. He never thought in a million years this would have happened. He felt her body stiffen when he began to cry, but a moment later, he felt her hands in his hair and against his back trying to soothe him.

"I am sorry. I tried to tell you, to do something to signal that I was still alive inside, but I couldn't do anything. I was terrified that they were going to bury me alive."

He finally rolled back to look up at her. "Don't apologize. I cry because I am overjoyed that you are alive." He was startled when she leaned forward and brushed a few tears away from his cheeks. He didn't remember the last time he'd let anyone see him cry, but somehow he didn't feel foolish at all. Of everything that had happened since she had entered this room, him crying made the most sense.

He looked at her, then took a deep breath and stood. "So," he said, brushing his hair behind his ear, "what is the plan now, princess?"

She stood as well. "We have to get out of here. There is a feeling of blackness that is descending upon the keep. I can't explain it, but the duke has changed."

He noted the sound of alarm in her voice. "How so?" he asked. She blushed. That wasn't a terribly good sign.

"Duke Hammond has been saying all kinds of things, things that don't make sense." She looked away. "And...he kissed me. He kissed me and..." She closed her eyes. "I couldn't do anything to stop it."

The huntsman's relief at her untimely aliveness was crowded out by a newfound seething hatred for the duke. "What?" he nearly shouted. "What did he do to you?"

"Shhh!" she commanded quietly. "Like I said, he is not himself. He kissed me...he touched me in places. I don't know what he will do when he realizes I'm missing. That's why we have to get out of here before he finds I'm no longer in his room." She sighed to herself. "I'm just glad the coffin wasn't locked." She suddenly turned to him and gave him an evaluating glance. "Are you sober enough to ride? We have to get to the Black Queen's castle soon."

"Yes, and why are we going there?" he asked.

She smirked. "Clare was right. I know what the queen knows. Even now, she is amassing an army to bring me back to her castle. She needs me alive, and she thinks I'm here. With her forces gone from the castle, we can sneak in and finally face her."

He looked at her in shock. "Face her? You mean to fight her? The two of us?"

She took his hand in both of hers. "Eric, Huntsman. You are the only person I trust. And we have the advantage of surprise." He looked at her, unsure. "This can work. Please trust me."

He took his other hand and cupped her cheek. He stroked her face gently with his thumb. "Alright," he said, not knowing whether he had just made the right call or the worst decision of his entire life.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** The princess is revived! But there is danger afoot. What will happen in the next chapter? I will try to update very soon so that you will be able to find out!

RE: the kiss in the last chapter. There have been a few comments left about the nature of the kiss. Since most of these were from anonymous posters, I decided to write a response and put it on my tumblr (which is brand new and only has SWATH stuff on it anyway) instead of putting it in a GINORMOUS A/N at the end of the chapter. So, if you are curious as to why I chose to make it such a chaste kiss, look my blog up! It's inkyd00 . tumblr . com. (That's inkydoo with zeroes instead of o's. I am so leet.) It's kind of an interesting essay if I do say so myself. :)

RE: the huntsman's name. The whole story is basically centered around meaningful names. Magnus = great. Eleanor = light. William = protector. Eric = great ruler. Sara(h) = princess (as in, Eric was loved as well as royalty when he was with his wife). Hammond = either protector or home, depending on where you trace the name from. So...Jaeger. If you don't know German, then Jaeger is kind of an Anglicized version of the word Jäger, which means "hunter." I figured it would be a good name for him because it would explain why he doesn't mind being called "Huntsman" all the time. Plus, people were generally named after the things they did back in the day, so it makes sense that way. Also, the original story of Snow White is German, and it was published coincidentally (or not) in the year 1812, so that makes this the 200 year anniversary of the Grimms' version of the story. It's also meaningful because of a particular kind of alcohol named Jägermeister...(literally translating into "master hunter"). You might have heard of it before. Anyway, the label has a picture of a great deer with a cross over its head. This is the iconography of St. Eustace, the patron saint of hunters. Also, yes...in the movie, he's Scottish, but...the name Eric is Scandinavian anyway...so I don't dunno. Maybe his family is German, but they moved to Scotland when he was young, then returned once that awesome Australian/Scottish accent was firmly in place... I dunno. CHRIS HEMSWORTH!

So...yeah. That's that.

Also, the phrase "untimely aliveness" is from The Tick. It's a little cartoon about a big blue guy who shouts SPOON and his anxious accountant/rabbit/moth sidekick. I have never written anything where that was so completely apropos, though, so I stuck it in. TA DA!

Thank you to everyone who is reading, subscribing, and reviewing! You guys make this so much fun! Thanks to , Kristin04, BloodyBleedingRose, hlee0890, may cantaloupe, Wizadora1257, aredhela82, thewitherabbit, mtsnowangel, Arkansas Sweetheart, DarklyDreaming88, Kazz the 13th, LittleNK, DacilJuju, abbyli, missnh28, katandjp, imperial violets, snookems24, dramaqueen321, LenaLove, DRadcliffe11, gentlelove, EugeniaVictoria, Sepsis, C. I. TigerFan, Islandcutie, GabzHaug, and PS!


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